Friday 29th September 2023

Friday, and the end of the week, but I'm not going home. I have five more days here, some more light auditing in the morning, and then more report writing.

My friend, Mark, aka Shaggy, has invited me to stay at his farm-cum-brewery supply shop, so I can check out. Which does mean packing the case, which without the teabags I brought for Rune not in it, and yet not all of my stuff fits. So I have to carry my coat and bottle of beers that Rune gave me.

I check out at twenty past six, load the car and go in for breakfast, deciding that a bacon and sausage roll was what the doctor ordered. It certainly hit the spot, as did the coffee.

I drove to the office, again without incident, meaning I had got through five days driving in the city without hitting anyone.

Which is nice.

I go to the conference room, only to find it not booked, so I go to the office, set up only to find that the whole building is moving desks, or everyone who works in it.

I pack my laptop away, and we try to find room 3.09, our new home to find most of the global quality function there, all trying to get the intraweb and screens working, not helped by the total failure of internet access.

All sorted by eight, I have my audit, wrap that up and go back to writing my report, which by three was pretty much done.

Before leaving, I meet up with my old colleague, Frank, for a chat and catch up. He's gone back to being a PQM, and he is happier there, which is good.

I program Shaggy's place in the sat nav, and head north to Aalborg up the motorway, once I had negotiated the traffic getting out of the city.

I turn off, drive through rolling countryside, two mall villages, and right by the railway lie is his place.

We both like beer and trains, so I joked on how I should have know he' be by the tracks.

We hug, I meet his wife and youngest son, now grown up. I then get given the tour of the old barns, now beer supplies warehouses and shop.

I sample one of his summer ales, which was hoppy indeed.

Would I like to try some of his wine?

I would.

So, back in house to watch his son cutting root vegetables for roasting, Shags puts a pork joint into the bbq, has an automated temperature probe which will tell him when it gets to temperature, which was about an house.

As we stood in the kitchen, looking at the sparrows feeding in their hedge, a brown shap flew by. I looked closer, and sure enough the sparrowhawk flew back and landed in the nearby tree. Shaggy was thrilled as I don't think they'd seen one before, it flew away, flying low over their lawn.

We drink wine.

Food cooks.

It is served, we eat.

Drink more wine.

Then back to the shop to try more Belgian beers and watch music videos on YouTube.

We bail at half ten after the special one I brought, it finishes us. I feel into a deep sleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

Thursday 28th September 2-23

Third day of the audits, and I am getting tired. Its the thinking, I think, always pondering or trying to recall if what was said just now matched what was said the day before. Or the day before that.

And the fact that for most offices in the building, the windows did not open, so air got stale and eyelids heavy.

That being said, it was a glorious morning with bright red sunrise and clouds reflecting the colours.

I got a shot.

The walk to the entrance, swipe in, and climb the stairs to the conference room.

Eyes down.....

In fact, we were done before lunch, four hours early, which was nice, so able to join with my friends for lunch and chat about, well, work.

Then upstairs to begin writing the audit report.

My boss leaves at half two, and I am soon following her out. Just so much office work and sitting around one can do.

So I drove back to the hotel without incident, went to my room to chill, and decided to go out, even if I was tired.

Arhus is a fine, modern and safe city, at dusk when the lights shine brightly, and the shops are still open, or people drinking and laughing outside bars, still warm enough to sit outside.

My feet too me to the canal, and along to an Italian place, where a group of Italian women laughing and eating convince me if its good enough for them to come here, I should too.

I get a table, order a bottle of Vin Nobile, and order Caprese and a vegetarian risotto.

The salad came with a ridiculous amount of tomatoes, and very soft cheese, not sure about the onions, mind. But nice enough, and the risotto was serviceable.

The company paid, for the food, I paid for the wine.

And after some people watching, I left and walked back up the hill to the hotel, glad to have gone out, and just one more day of auditing to go.

Wednesday 27th September 2023

I have no idea what day it is, apparently, it was Wednesday.

I am here to work, and work is what I do.

I treated myself to a 15 minute lay in, so got up at quarter past six, and was down for breakfast at twenty to seven; another bacon butty and plenty of coffee, then for the drive to work, into the glorious sunrise, along streets with little traffic a a few manic cyclists.

After parking, I walk to the reception, swipe in and go to the meeting room where in an hour I type up my notes from the day before, in time to start all over again.

I won't mention the work itself, but it went well.

The day before, my colleague, Rune, bought me lunch, but he was away, so I had to load another swipe card with money before going down to pay by waving the card at a scanner.

But it worked.

Like most firms over here, a subsidised canteen is well supplied with a salad bar, fruit, bread, and a choice of cooked main course, though not huge, it does allow me to eat healthy and not feel bad about being ambushed by burger, fries and beer later.

Which is what did happen.

I came over all tired, so decided against going out, instead I looked at the in-hotel restaurant menu on Facebook, and found them claiming to serve the best burger in Arhus..

A bold claim.

I go down and read my book while the burger arrives, which was pretty good, served with fries and two dips.

I find the Facebook post was written by the bar manager, a former waiter called Magnus. I wrote that in Danish, he said. Well, FB translated it, automatically.

Did I want to see the dessert menu?

Yes, yes I would.

I have cheese and a glass of red wine, and then go back to my room to chill and call Jools on the mobile.

The day ends

Tuesday 26th September 2023

Four year anniversary of Mum's passing.

And, I really don't think about it too much, if I'm honest. I mean, she comes up in conversations with Jools, but mostly of a life wasted or someone gone before her time.

I wished her no ill, really. But it did mean we paid the mortgage off, and began to travel once COVID eased.

So, other than remembering that night as I travelled home from the IoW, and the realisation she really wasn't going to make it, it was a normal day at work. Other than being away from home.

I am here in Denmark, after all, for work.

And so it begins.

Four days of audits this week, two next week, two the week after, all with reports to write after and travel on top of that.

But, welcome to Arhus.

I wake at six when the alarm went off, skipped the shower, which I would regret, get dressed and was down for breakfast when the restaurant opened at half past.

I wolfed down a bacon butty and a coffee, then went to find the car and drive to the office before traffic got too bad and before the cyclists were abroad.

I have nothing against cyclists, one of my best friends is a cyclist, but here in DK, quite rightly, they get priority at many junctions, especially making right turns difficult.

So I like to get to the office early in order to miss the worse of it. At least I know the way by now.

I arrive, get a pass from reception and find the meeting room. I have an hour, so settle in, open the agenda and opening meeting presentation, and grab a coffee.

Auditing is what I do, and can be dull. Is dull. Mostly, but the day flies by, and soon is four and we end for the day.

My interim boss had arranged to meet at six for dinner, so I drive back to the hotel to freshen up, change clothes and relax, before walking down the hill to the bus station to the street food place, where we would be eating.

Its a colourful place with eateries set up in brightly coloured shipping containers, there is plenty of seating inside and out, so the only decision is what to eat.

Tina and Rune arrive, we wander round and Tina decides on the duck cooked in duck fat burger and fries also cooked in guck fat, while Rune and yself went Greek.

As it were.

I had grilled chicken thighs, fries and zsuaki with pitas, which was pretty darn good.

We sat outside to eat and talk Had an ice cream, then they had to go home while I wandered back to the hotel.

Darkness was falling, but its still mild enough to not need a coat.

Monday 25th September 2023

All aboard the skylark!

Just to mess with things, British Airways have brought the departure time of their flight to Billund by an hour, so it now leaves at 08:45 of a morning. Meaning, I would have to be there two hours before departure, in case there were tech issues delaying checking in or at security. Meaning leaving Kent an hour earlier, to the point no train from Dover could get me there early enough, so Jools drove me to Ashford so I could catch the 05:42 train to London.

The alarm went off at four, the cats were still asleep, even Mulder, we had coffee, did chores, got dressed and were in the car heading down the road at five to five, along deserted roads, as the first ferry from France was only just docking as we went by the port.

Even Ashford was quiet, hardly no other cars on the road as we got to the station, no queue at the ticket office to buy my £44 ticket, and then just an eight minute wait for the train, which was empty enough so I got a seat, then snooze as we sped through the black countryside, under the Thames and into east London as dawn broke.

Traffic everywhere even at that time, on the A13.

Off at Stratford, a quick walk to the DLR, a five minute wait, and then a twenty minute trundle through east London and docklands to the airport.

Having already checked in, I dropped the case off, through security in ten minutes, and was sitting down for breakfast by half six, still two hours before departure.

After finishing breakfast, I found a place to sit, and that's when big Jesper turned up, his last trip out of UK before moving back to Denmark.

All people light up a room, but some do it by leaving, other when they arrive. Jesper is one of the latter, loud, joyous and making my trip one of joy.

Our tiny plane arrived, we waited at the gate, and then the eight of us passengers were allowed on.

Eight.

We board at nine, settle in and the engines start. A long taxi to the end of the runway, then engines roar and we leap forward down the runway.

Into the air, with Charlton on the other side of the river, then the Barrier and the Millennium Dome, and just as the view along the river to The City was about to open up, we enter low clouds and the view was lost

It was clearer out over Brentwood as the plane began to climb, and as we climbed higher and higher, breakfast was served as Great Yarmouth slipped by far down below.

I ate breakfast and then accepted a second coffee as we flew north to Denmark, the clear skies over the sea, however, we replaced by clouds at the coast, so Denmark hid underneath.

Once landed, we get through immigration, collect our bags and get the keys for our cars. Jesper is off before I get my key, a blur of energy.

I get some kind of Kia duel fuel thing. Its OK, so quiet that you're really not sure if you have switched the ignition on until the car begins to move.

A quick hour run over the fields and bogs to the motorway, then up north to Arhus, heading to the centre to the Raddison Blu next to the art museum.

It was just one none of my colleagues were in the office, so no need to go there, so I checked in and a room was ready, so I went for a snooze and check some mails.

For the evening, I took a cab to the edge of the city where a former colleague has a summer house, along with her husband, I had gone out to buy some flowers and wine too.

The summer house is in a large area with hundreds of similar dwellings, now retired this is their only home in Denmark, they spend the winter in their house in Spain.

We drink beer, wine, port, eat bbq and talk lots about life and those we have worked with, those who enter rooms and those who leave.

It is dark, very dark when Kate runs me back into town in their Tesla, which is like a rocket, so quickly it picks up speed.

As ever, I was shattered.

Sunday 24th September 2023

Part two of the weekend, and this weekend I have to remember that I am paid for doing something, and so I prepare for my first international quality based trip of the year, leaving London at oh oh dearie dearie me hours on Monday morning, requiring Jools to take me halfway to that London to get a train early enough so I can catch the plane.

Once we were up, the cats fed and we had coffee, breakfast and second coffee, the main task of the day was sorting the lawnmeadow out.

It needed another cut, and then scarifying. Which means ripping the shit out of it, so when you sow seeds they make contact with soil, and you remove all the dried thatch so not to help what little grass there is, grow.

Jools helped, which meant the lawn was mowed and scarified by half eleven, which meant time for a brew before making lunch of Caprese and two fresh potato bread rolls.

Which came out splendid.

We had wine/cider, listen to the wireless while we ate, then had to stay awake for the football in the afternoon, the North London derby first, which ended up a 2-2 draw, but was very entertaining.

Once the footy was done, a shower, pack and have a large shortcake each for supper before bed at eight, as we were up at four in the morning.

Policy is hard, part 130,456

After 13 years in power, it seems that the Conservative Government cannot now even complete HS2.

Rumours today that the leg from Birmingham to Manchester might be scrapped or delayed, as might the link to Euston, meaning that the UK will have created a new kind of railway, a world's first: a high speed branch line.

Delaying the project will not save costs, it will increase them. In the long run.

And cancelling it after spending all this money would mean getting none of the benefits. Like replacing all the heating in a house then leaving the windows open.

HS2 is/was all about releasing capacity. Not high speed.

The world will look on and see not only did we choose Brexit, but we cannot now complete a simple high speed railway line.

What have we become?

This Government should just give up, call an election and go back to their families if they are not up to the task of running the country.

This is on top of Sunak rolling back on the Net Zero plans and other "green" policies designed to help save the planet.

Saturday 23rd September 2023

Saturday: and with lots of pictures of churches left to edit and post, coupled with the orchid season over for another year, there was little to do.

Jools even had gone to Tesco Friday evening, so we didn't even have to get up early.

I cooked something for Jools to have for lunch over the time I would be away, so that used up some of the saved time from not going shopping.

So, we went for a walk, but recent heavy rains made most tracks impassable, so just a walk over the fields to Fleet House and back, as I looked for Clouded Yellows again, but none seen.

This is a view where the track to The Dip, Norway Drove branched right, and the main track heads down round the corner to the left to the farm.

Back over the fields where at Red Admiral was feeding on Ivy just as the path opened out, so I snapped that. Walking back home keeping an eye out for Clouded Yellows still, but none seen.

Back home for half an hour, before we drove over to Folkestone as we had been invited out for lunch!

Out Flickr-friend, Mary, had invited us to her house in Cheriton, so we drove over, stopping to get a bouquet from a florists, and then the usual issue where she lives: finding somewhere to park on the narrow streets.

Once we had, we walked to her house, rang the bell and she invited us in.

We ate a light three course meal and talked all the time, all very pleasant and the time slipped by.

We left at three so Jools could go swimming once the tide turned, but I stayed home to listen to the football.

Oh yes, the football. Even though we're suffering a bit of an injury crisis, I don't anyone though Plymouth would hoop us 6-2. And by all accounts, City were as bad as the score suggests. Sigh.

Thoughts on blogs and photo of the day

I began this blog, or this version of it after disembarking from a survey vessel in Peterhead on my birthday in 2008. You can go back and read it.

It was the start of a long period of leave which would include getting married and the honeymoon.

A few months later we bought "he house on the cliffs", aka The Ugly House, aka Chez Jelltex.

I then lost my job, just as we had taken on a six figure mortgage.

Eeeek indeed.

We managed.

I have written most weeks, and since the London Olympics in JUly 2012, I have written pretty much every day. This was helped by moving into a role that meant lots of travel and lots to write about.

We have travelled to Japan.

The USA.

Several times.

Germany.

Spain.

Rhodes.

Svalbard.

But, this year has been tought to find stuff to write about. Every day. When every days is the same. I get up, have coffee, have breakfast, work, do something else, prepare dinner and then clear up and watch football.

Rinse and repeat.

So, as I write this, it is my inention to only write in the new year when there is something worth writing about. That might be every day, or not.

Also. On 1st January 2017, I began the first of my picture a day projects. That year I missed one day, but cheated in changing the date in the file data. But that was the only time.

Since starting, I have taken and posted 2,456 shots of the day, so by the end of the year there will be 98 more to add.

And if anything, finding something new to take a shot of 365 days year after year is beming really very hard indeed. So, it is my intention to stop this current 365 project ends on New Years Eve.

We shall see.

Friday 22nd September 2023

Another day, another sleep through the alarm. This time until ten past six, giving me just 50 minutes to get my head together before work starts.

Jools was about to leave for Yoga, and had made me a coffee, but as soon as that was drunk I had to put the bins out, fill up the feeders and so on so that I was ready for work at seven.

Or ten past once Windows updates had installed.

Not much to report about work, just the usual stuff, and some minor alignment meetings for next week and resubmit my travel expenses after the computers has wiped the scans of the receipts from the report.

I like doing the same job twice, and getting threatening mails for the system for doing nothing wrong.

In the afternoon I packed the computer away and packed my travelling bag, and was reading on the patio when Jools came back from a haircut and Tesco. Meaning we did not have to go out Saturday morning, what will we do with the saved time?

I do the music quiz but fail totally, in what was an easy, peasy, lemon squeasy week.

Off to Jens then, and John now is sans car so couldn't come up if he wanted, so it was just the three of us. Jen cooked burgers and fries, the burgers home made and pretty good. Then eyes down for a game of Meld that yours truly scooped the 40p jackpot after an hour's playing.

Jools drove us home, back in time to see the second half of the football and have another glass of wine.

On Brexit. Again

A reminder that Brexit was, and still is a process.

It is something that will never end.

Every 5 years there is to be a recalibration between the EU and UK, the first being in 2026, though the EU views this aas a technical review, not the wholesale changes many of us remainers would like.

This week, Leader of the Opposition, Kier Starmer, was recorded in a conference in Canada saying he did not want divergance from the EU, when released by Sky yesterday, it caused the expected meltdowns in most of the right wing press, especially The Mail, which again talked of betrayal.

Brexit, even if this was its "final form", would be subject to reviews and adjustments as EU and UK regulations change, and so how these would be managed would have to be discussed, and what was agreed in 2019 might not be appropriate in the next five years.

Also, no Parliament can bind future Parliaments from taking certain actions, so if a Government decided it was in the UK's interest to have closer links to the EU, then that is what the Government should have as policy. That at a given point there was a referendum and people voted this way or that meaning that no one in the future can change, is plain silly.

There was another referendum, in 1975, whether the electorate wanted to stay in the Common Market, as it was called then, and they did. So, if a Government was elected on a mandate to forge closer links, or rejoin the SM and/or CU, then that would a contitutional thing to do.

There would be no betrayal of Brexit, which is the whinging we hear from Brexiteers about their fellow Brexiteers who defined and enacted the Brexit we have. There is no Betrayal, never was, its what happeens when dogma meets reality, the self-proclaimed free-marketeers meet the actual free markets. Reality wins out.

Divergance means more checks, delays and costs at borders, including the one between Britain and Northern Ireland, breaking the Union up further.

The next election will be the Conservatives, probably not under the leadership of Sunak on a ticket of more divergance and leaving the ECHR, while the Labour Party will be more pragmatic.

Labour might now say there is no plans to rejoin the SM and/or CU, but of course, that could change in the future, and will. Sunak wants to use Brexit as a wedge issue in the forthcoming election, but already most of the country sees Brexit as a failure, and an appetite for Brexit 2.0 might not be a strong as the Tories and PM might think it is.

The population is aging, more younger voters are coming through.

Brexit was never an event, it was always a process.

Thursday 21st September 2023

Autumn is here, and along with it cooler temperatures, rain, wind and shorter days. And on this day, night and day were of equal length, and from now on life will get much, much darker.

I had to catch up on work I missed on Tuesday and Wednesday, which wasn't much, if I'm honest.

Jools had gone swimming, and me lazing in bed meant she was ready to leave when I got up, and outside the day's first milky light stretch over from the east.

The cats try to tell me they hadn't been fed, but I didn't believe them, so they gave up and went back to bed. While I drank coffee and got ready for work.

First up was the monthly department meeting where I gave my boss's boss another hard time and questioned his decision making processes.

He wasn't happy. Again.

So it goes, so it goes.

Outside the rain had stopped, but it was cold and grey, not really felt like walking. But also the 22,000 steps I did on Wednesday, my legs just ached. I should walk that amount most days, if I'm honest, armed with my phone, headphones and podcasts, maybe I can.

I went into the garden, and all that was in flower was a single autumn crocus and the clump of musk mallow in the lawn. I snapped the former as shot of the day,

Football is back, its European week, so matches beginning at half five and go on to ten, or beyond. I don't have the newly branded TNT Sports, so I don't watch, and truth be known I only listen to the CL, and that is a Tuesday and Wednesday only competition, its poorer relations play on Thursdays.

We have bangers and mash for dinner, and by the time we had listened to a podcast, eaten, cleared up, it was dark outside, and the wind building, and soon swept in the rain.

Its now cool enough to think about closing all windows, so the cats will have to get used to using the flap once again

Wednesday 20th September 2023

In 2018, a Flickrfriend noticed I was posting shots near to where she lived in New York. Short story is that the next day we met up for beers and a chat.

Fast forward five years and Diane is back visiting the UK and she was coming to Canterbury, did I want to meet and show her round?

Yes.

Yes, I do.

With just the one car, and Canterbury being a car-unfriendly city built still on a medieval road plan, it is easier to travel by public transport. So, at half seven, Jools dropped me off at Dover Priory so I could catch the train to Canterbury East, through the overgrown remains of the Kent coalfield at Shepherdswell and Snowdon, and detrain at Canterbury.

It was a dull, damp morning, with a strong wind blowing, but the forecast suggested little rain, but the wind would ensure that what rain there was, would be thrown in our faces, or at our back, with some force.

It is a poorly marked path into the city centre, but thanks to the nearby Castle, St Mildrids and Dane John Park, I guessed, correctly, that I walked straight ahead, once having crossed the small park which seems to be where St Mary in Castro once stood, the centre would be about ten minutes away.

I had eaten just an orange before leaving home, having decided I should have breakfast out, so it was that I walked to, and into The Saffron Café, where I ordered a large breakfast a a pot of tea, then people watched as I waited for the bangers and rashers to be cooked.

When it arrived, it was very good indeed, not greasy, and just what I had planned breakfast to be.

Once eaten and paid, I walk to the Buttercross, where the time was a minute before nine, and the Cathedral would soon be open.

No one else around, so I became the first paying visitor of the day, and went round taking some shots (I only had the nifty fifty with me, but my main target was the Chapterhouse and Crypt.

Both were open, though photography not allowed in the Crypt, though I did take a couple of shots of what I wanted to see here, the two columns rescued from the old Saxon church at Recilver, which was pulled down by its parishioners who believed, thanks to the then vicar's mother, that it was imperilled by the encroaching sea.

200 years later and Reculver Towers still stand, and the footprint of the church is still safe from the sea.

My only concern as to see wheich of the dozens of columns down in the Crypt, all holding the cathedral above it, up, where the ones I wanted to see. That was answered by two oversized columns, which were labelled as such. I took my shots and went in search of the Chapterhouse, which somehow I had missed on previous visits too.

This was open, and empty, but the stunning ceiling and stined glass windows would require a return visit with the big lens, but no matter as the entrance ticket allows for unlimited revisits for 12 months.

I walk back outside after an hour, and get a message from Diane that she was delayed with ticket problems, so I had time on my hands before her new arrival time of ten past midday came.

So, I went for a haircut, saving me a job on Sunday, though not as good as the guys in Folkestone, it'll last until I return from Denmark in two weeks or maybe more.

I had forgotten to pring my allergy spray, so went in search of a branch of Boots, got the spray, then went to Waterstones for a copy of Stuart Maconie's new book, not for today, but for my trip to Denmark, something to read when dining alone.....

That found and bought, it was now time to walk to the station and meet Diane, and maybe even read the first chapter of the book too.

I reached the station with a quarter of an hour to spare, so I sat down to begin to read, when a group of four young adults sat behind, began playing music, smoking and to start being annoying. And then a man came to me and asked if I was local, and if so did I know where the job centre was?

I didn't, but one of the young men behind me chirped up and explained by turning left on the main road and following the road along would bring him to the job centre.

Never judge a book by the cover, Ian.

Diane's train came in, and after negotiating the lift up from the platform, along the walkway and down the lift the other side, ten more minutes had gone by, but she came out.

We hugged and I had to explain that the Cathedral had more steps than I remember, but we could go and see where we could get into and see.

So, first up was a walk back into the city, past the Westgate, over broth branches of the Stour, stopping to look at the ditching stool and then through to Palace Street to see Number 8, and further along to the old King's School Book Shop with its wonky door and all odd angles.

Diane got her shots, and on the way back we paused for a drink at the Bell and Crown, where a "typical" English beer was requested. After chatting with a guy at the bar, I decided on a Leffe, as I had bought her a Belgian beer in NYC when we last met.

I took the beer outside where we drank and talked more.

A check of the time revelled it to be after two, so we drank up and walked to the Cathedral. I had my ticket from the morning, Diane bought hers, and we made our way to the side door so she could see and take shots from the Nave.

To get to the Quire we had to go back out and walk all the way round past the Chancel, ruins of other buildings and to where there was a passageway to the School, the other way lead to a small barely marked lift, which took us up to the Quire, where the majesty of the Cathedral.

It really is rather magnificent, even if on her buggy we could not get to see the tomb of The Black Prince.

Sunlight falling through the stained glass was also wonderful, and we both took shots, but time was getting away.

Before I left for home, we looked for a place to eat, couldn't find a pasty shop, but we did find a chippy. So eating a battered sausage and well salted and vinegared chips we ate and talked so more.

And so it was time to part, I took her back to High Street, and she went off to West Station, while I walked back to East.

Thankfully I had walked it this morning, so found it no trouble, but the way was poorly marked and I could have easily got lost.

On the platform, there was a train in ten minutes, which would get me back to Priory station by twenty past five, just in time for Jools to pick me up on her way home.

Which would have been perfect had it not been for roadworks and traffic lights. I walked up Folkestone Road along the line of cars waiting at the lights until I found Jools, got in and once through the lights, back up Jubilee Way to home.

I quickly rustled up Carbonara, plating it up in less than 20 minutes. I checked my phone, 21,500 steps, which the health app seemed to approve of.

And to end the perfect day, Norwich were on telly, but playing Leicester who took their chances and we didn't. City lost 2-0.

Oh well.

A fine day, all in all

Tuesday 19th September 2023

International Speak Like a Pirate Day 2023.

And.

Our 15th wedding anniversary.

. We had plans in the afternoon, but until then, situation normal.

Jools went swimming, and I fed the cats, emptied the bins, filled up the feeders and generally was ahead of the game by the time work started.

And for item of business, literally, was news of the great announcement.

Not great.

It turned out.

The grand plan was revealed, and it sounded good, but what for us, the team of tireless auditors?

No change.

More work.

No extra money.

No new recruitment.

But the future is glorious.

Apparently.

In a minuted meeting, I made my displeasure clear. By boss's boss was surprised that we took the lack of elevation one corporate level so badly.

I was brave enough to speak out, I received votes of thanks, but no one else said anything.

So, despite being so close to the centre of the organisation, and essential for the clean up that has to take place, they appreciate what we do, in anything except actual anything for monetary value.

Sigh.

And so at two, Jools returned home and we went out, into Deal for a celebration of ice cream sundaes, not at an Italian place, but a traditional English ice cream parlour, which adds a certain faded seaside glamour about it.

We were the youngest folks in, as the old and elderly tackled their cones as the ice cram melted and covered their hands.

Ours were sundaes, and too sweet after much syrup being used to create the masterpieces.

I had a coffee to take away the sugar rush, then we went outside in the gales for a cobweb destroying walk to the end of the pier and back, and as we walked back, more rain began to fall, we decided to head home.

Jen was coming round to help us celebrate, so I was cooking steak and chips n garlic mushrooms and fresh corn. And fizz.

She arrived at half four, I cooked so we were eating just after five, tucking into steaks weighing 15oz each.

Yummy.

And it was good.

And the evening was rounded off with coffee and me lstening to one football match while watching another.

Because, skillz.

Monday 18th September 2023

Weekend ends and so we pack up our troubles and head to the coalface with our snap in our knapsacks whilst whistling a happy tune and our hats at a jaunty angle.

Autumn arrives this week with three days of storms, wind, if not lightning. But between there is some sun.

A hard day of meetings trying to get people to understand the reality of what they have done, without much success, if I'm honest.

But this is to be a short week, an hour or so off on Tuesday and then meeting a friend on Wednesday in Canterbury, so exciting stuff.

Even if work isn't.

Later in the day I tried to do some gardening, trimming the lavender out front, but as soon as I snipped a dead head off, the wind whisked it along the street.

We'll call that a draw.

Jools was going to her new aquafit class in the evening, so a late dinner of fritters and a nice beer, for me.

Darkness now falls just after seven, and so the long dark winter months are now drawing in.

Sunday 17th September 2023

The final day of the two Heritage Weekend(s). And we were off onto the Romney Marsh to see a small chapel.

The weekend flew by, of course, and already halfway through, with the prospect of severe storms in the afternoon, if the forecast was right.

It wasn't.

After breakfast we loaded the car with camera and lenses, drove down past the port and up out of town on the A20 to the motorway at Folkestone, turning off at Ashford, along the A2070 which has now had roundabouts replaced by traffic lights and so delays and road closures have ended.

Down onto the Marsh, through Ham Street and out to Appledore.

The English Heritage website gave a postcode, but I had also noted the postcode of the oasthouse next to it, which were different. We drove round the small village of Horne, twice, trying to find either the Chapel or oast, then after putting in the second postcode, we discovered we had driven right past it on entering the village and had missed the sign and bunting.

The chapel was built probably in the 14th century as a place where the local landowner could worship with having to travel the mile or so to the parish church. What is left is really just a stone box, with a 15th century roof and windows.

Such chapels were rare in England, and this is very unusual as a survivor. It it not open on a regular basis, mainly just these weekends.

We parked the car and walked through the gate, down an arcaded path with roses growing all over it, and at the end was a member of the Trust waiting to greet us.

She told us some of the history, and that the house it once formed a wing of, has all now gone and replaced with the 16th century house that now adjoins it.

I did notice the hagioscope, or squint, right away. This is a small window or opening, pointing to where the altar was, so a priest outside could see when mass was held and relay it to those outside.

Or it could have been an opening for an anchorite or anchoress's cell. We crawlers get excited about the possibility of an anchorite cell, though almost never is.

Other than that, there was some ancient and less ancient graffiti on the walls inside, I snapped that too, before going into the vaulted undercroft to take my final pictures.

I then had to explain to the warden, and then other visitors about the hagioscope, meaning that in total we were there for just over half an hour.

Jools wanted to go swimming, so we set course for home, calling in at Waitrose in Hythe so I could get some guanciale to make "proper" carbonara.

They had none.

Though we did by sticky toffee pudding, custard and some onions, the former so we had something sweet to eat when we got home.

As we were leaving the shop, the heavens opened and the rain hammered down, soaking us as we scampered across the car park, but then by the time we got to Folkestone, not only had the rain stopped, it hadn't rained there at all.

Back in Dover, I went to take Jools to the prom for her swim, only to discover the knuckledraggers of Britain First were holding a tiny demonstration, blocking the road.

We turned round and went home, cooked the pudding and warmed the custard and tucked in to eat 20 minutes after getting back.

No thunder during the afternoon, as storms were a couple of hundred miles to the south over France, which had at least one tornado.

And none in the evening either, as I watched football through the remainder of the weekend.