Monday 16th June 2016

We all get old of course, and aches and pains come and sometimes go. Getting out of a chair or off the sofa comes complete with groans and sighs.

Jools has hurt her thigh. A soft tissue injury, and needed advice on how to care and what she could and couldn't do in order not to make it worse.

Our local friendly chiropractor has moved to Canterbury, on the Old Dover Road, so no need to actually go into the city itself, so just a twenty minute drive rather than the two minute blast down the hill when they were based at Martin Mill.

So, no gym, and after coffee we set off at nine, rough hour being come and gone, for a nice cruise up the A2, turning off at Bridge and waiting in the traffic until we came to number 130.

I parked up and waited, while Jools went in to be pummelled.

A lovely sunny day, and one which deserved to be orchid-filled.

An hour later she came out, and I took us back onto the A2, off through Bridge and back on the London bound A2, turning off and taking the A28 along the Stour Valley to Chilham and then to Ashford.

About 90%, at least, of Kent is calciferous, so that the opposite, areas of acid soil, is rare.

One such place is Hothfield, where there is a colony of Heath Spotted Orchids as well as other acid-loving lants and insects can be found.

It is under the care, I think of the local council, who over the years have not done a good job, if the surveyors from Nature England I met there a few years back told me were correct.

We parked outside, walked over the road and through the wood. It has been two or three years since I was last here, the fence for the bog and its gates are gone, so trying to get my bearings took a few minutes.

I realised, walk downhill until the ground and/or your feet get wet!

Which we did.

Numbers of orchids are down on its peak, and none beside the main path, but if you look there were perhaps 200 or so, some in the stagnant ponds others among the ferns.

I take shots of a few spikes, and of the Lousewort also in flower, then we began the long walk back to the car. In reality, just ten minutes.

The sun had gone in, hidden behind clouds, but it was humid and not too pleasant, at least for me.

Back in the car we set for home, but deciding we were hungry, and on the way to the motorway through the outskirts of Ashford, where best to have lunch.

We settled on a new place called Hoops, on London Road at the end of Combe Valley Road, does breakfast in the mornings, and is supposed to do good burgers into the evening.

We get a parking spot outside, and it seemed an effort for us to be served, and despite it being just after noon, they were just doing breakfast.

I had sausage and bacon roll, which came in one of those part-baked things you get to cook at home from supermarkets, whilst Jools had an omelette, which was pretty good.

My roll wasn't.

So, we won't go back there again.

So back home, up Whitfield Hill and along the A2 to home, where we have a brew and some leftover chocolate biscuits.

It was, of course, Monday. And Monday is the new card-playing day. So, we drove over to Whitfield, and after chatting, we got down to the serious business.

I had a terrible afternoon. Both Jools and I did, I failed to win a penny in Meld, and then in Queenie, our losses kept piling up.

The kitty for the four-in-a-row kept building, until it got to five when the threshold was reduced to three-in-a-row.

And second hand in I got four, so scooped the jackpot, thus replenishing our tin of winnings.

Yay!

Dinner, when it came, for us was breaded chicken fillet salad and ice cold beer, which was pretty darn good and perfect for a hot and humid afternoon.

I skipped the footy in the evening, so we headed to bed at nine after a shower, it still being light outside.