Monday 30th August 2011

Tuesday; Market Day in Kings Lynn. And back to work for the rest of the UK. Or those not involved in the service industry who had to work regardless.

Of course, being Britain, and being a Bank Holiday, being the late summer bank holiday, we weather wasn’t really very good. Not that we would be surprised; even in 1976, the hottest hot summer we ever had, it poured on the bank holiday. We had our fair share of rain this year too; but, saying that, just about all fields have been harvested round our house, just like it would have in a really ‘hot’ summer. It’s just that we haven’t had much wall to wall sunshine days I guess.

Sunday morning came round and we headed to The Pines, a garden in St Margaret’s. Being a rural local, the £3 entrance fee was deposited in an ‘honesty’ box. And right away there was a pond at waist level, and flitting around was a big dragonfly. We had come down because my good friend, Gary, had been down here last week and snapped several species. And so I thought we should head down too.

The dragonfly, a Common Darter, was looking for places to lay her eggs. As she moved round the front of the pond, I was able to get some stunningly clear shots as she worked her way round.



The garden is rather wonderful, and makes its way up the valley that cuts through the chalk of the cliffs. Being deep down between the cliffs and surrounded by tall trees, even on a blustery day there is little wind to disturb the butterflies and dragonflies. I took a seat by another small pond and watched brightly coloured dragonflies, red-veined darters, flit around. I thought I stood little chance in snapping them, as soon as I saw one settle, I would make to raise my camera, the dragonfly would see my movement and fly away. As I made to leave, a single red-veined darter settled on a reed right below where I was standing. I raised my camera and snapped.



I joined Jools on a bench beside the large pond, and we watched a huge Emperor Dragonfly sweep over the surface of the pond, sweeping round a tree to our left and then swooping down again in the search of insects. We could have stayed there all day. In time we headed home via the village shop; I got some fresh rolls for lunch and then we went home to eat.

We spent the afternoon doing chores and then settling down with cat on lap to watch the football; Manchester Utd v Arsenal. By now you will know the result, 8-2, but it was heady stuff, even for a neutral. It probably felt different for Gooners though. As soon as the game finished, I popped the joint of beef in the oven, prepared the vegetables and made the Yorkshire Pudding.



Yum.

And so to the big day itself: Bank Holiday Monday. More chores, no football, lots of photographic stuff, chores in and around the garden, making 12 bottles of elderberry wine, of the beginning of the process anyway. We went for a walk along the lane at the end of the road on the hunt for more butterflies. It was too windy and cool really. We went to see the pigs in the woods, marvelled at the size of the sows, but there were no piglets anymore; now sausages and chops we guessed.

And there was the mice.

And the sparrow.

Since the passing of Little Girl, we have allowed the cats to come and go through the house even at night. There has been some minor issues, but nothing serious. Anyway, in the early hours of Monday morning Molly woke us up with a curious meow. Its her ‘I’ve caught something for you and want you to see how clever I am and for you to tell me’ meow. It’s amazing that an owner can read so much into a simple meow. But, even in a deep sleep we know what that meow means. I jump up and see the mouse, and imagine my surprise when it made a run for it. I managed to grab it’s tail and take it to the back door and deposit it in the hedge, still alive and complete with the right amount of legs and ears.

Back to bed and just as I’m about to fall back asleep, her comes Mulder wanting attention and/or food. Yes, yes Mulder, nice cat. I take him to the kitchen and give him a bowl of kibbles and close the door between the kitchen and living room and close the window through which Mulder and Molly will only now use to enter and leave the house. I was not taking into account the limbo abilities of said cats, as when Jools went downstairs at six, Mulder was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for more food.

And Scully was staring at the cooker. I mean really staring, not blinking, her cat senses all tingling. Another ‘present’ had escaped the jaws of a cat and was now sheltering. After our walk Scully was staring at the rack of records. And then she began to pull the records out in order to get to the mouse. We removed the rest of the records, and the shelving but there was no mouse.

And then the mouse made a dash for it, under the other record rack on the other side of the room. Thanks to evolution it’s tail was sticking out from the shelves and using a finger and my opposable thumb I pulled the mouse out and took that mouse to the hedge too.

I sat down to watch some Futurama on TV, and soon got the feeling I was being watched. I looked round and saw a mouse under the fire. It’s screwed in and no chance of getting to the mouse. However, it too made a dash for it, and pursued by Scully was cornered by the other, other record rack. And then it tried to get under the door to the kitchen. Quicker than Scully I reach down and make a grab for the mouse. And I get it, and it does not bite me. That too is taken to the hedge for another chance at life.

Between this there was the sparrow. Mulder brought in a feathery gift, a ‘dead’ sparrow. It lay between his paws, on its back feet pointing to the sky. Or ceiling. I grab it’s feet before the feeding begins. And it started to chirp and flap. I dropped it in surprise and ended up chasing the sparrow round the living room closely followed by Mulder and Scully.

Oh, what fun.

I make another grab for the sparrow under the rocking chair, and once again beat the cats to it. I take it to the front door and let it go. It does manage to fly away, and make it to a bush hopefully out of any cat’s view.



We were sitting on the patio later, drinking coffee when I spot movement out of the corner of my eye; another more stupid mouse was making a break for it sauntering from the hedge one side of my garden to the other. Taking all the time in the world. I go over, pick it up and place it in the other hedge as Scully comes wandering up.

Sunday 28th August 2011

Hello and good morning. Fancy a cup of coffee? I'll put the pot on the brew.

Sit down and make yourself comfortable and I'll begin....

Thursday evening, after work, we headed down to St Margaret's Bay to the Coastguard for dinner. We had a reserved table, we ordered a drinks and a bottle of vino to go with our meal of fish and chips followed by a cheeseboard and a large malt for me.
As we left, the sun was setting and the lights in France could just be seen.

And so to Friday. I was awake early for reasons I can't put my finger on, and ended up heading into work before six in the morning and was at my desk before half past.

And at half two, I turned the laptop off and wrapped up for the weekend. And even better, its a holiday weekend, so three days off.

Up at the crack of dawn, literally as the sun rises at about six, and we had to be out of the house and on our way to the railway station before quarter past so to catch the train to London. Again.

We had time to park the car, get our tickets and by then the train had pulled in; so we climb the bridge onto the bay platform and board the high speed train. Right in time we head out; alongside the Channel until we're through Folkestone, up alongside the M20 to Maidstone, then through the north downs tunnel, over the Medway to Ebbsfleet, under the Thames, through the Essex and then into the tunnel to Stratford. all in 57 minutes from Dover.

We get out and walk to the shuttle bus; we were treated to fine views of the Olympic Village, which looks nearly complete, of well on the way to be. On our way to the DLR station, we grab a coffee and a lamb samosa from a stall in the foot tunnel at the station.
The train was empty, and so we grab front seats of the train, and as its driverless, we get a fine view as we had towards Canary Wharf.



We get off and head down the escalators into the foyer below; I risk taking a shot whilst security guards mill round. I got away with it. We go outside and I snap away more freely, although some of my friends had been stopped here before. Once again I had no problem. It was a fine morning, quite cloudy, but ok for photography. We walk from dock to dock, each now surrounded by towers of glass and steel, and in-between places to cater for the rich bankers; restaurants with £500 bottles of wine and the such. Anyway, all was closed, as all finance places are at weekends. And it was just us and the fishermen dangling worms into the water that had full run of the place.



after a while we head back to Canary Wharf and head to the riverside to catch a clipper to the city centre. Clippers are just about the quickest way to get to the main locations along the river; jet powered boats that whisked us fro docklands to London Bridge in ten minutes. Apart from the passing cityscape on both sides we had a group of Amish tourists to watch and wonder about their heiratical structure as some women had different coloured scarves on and dresses, whilst the men seemed to be able to wear almost normal clothes.

We walk along the riverside and snap The Shard, soon to London's tallest building, now looking almost complete, at least from the outside, and now beside it, another block, the Place is beginning to grow upwards.



We have brunch at a place beside The Clink, and at which point Jools heads her way to beadshops in soho and I head to Blackfiars to snap the new station and bridge being built before heading to St Pancras to meet up with a friend as we were going to Chelsea to see the game vs Norwich in the afternoon.



I had not been watching the clock, and realised I was going to be late as I looked for a tube station, so I flag down a cab in Fleet Street and arrive at the station just in time. Or so I thought. I walk down to the Betjeman Arms, a new pub in the corner of the station. I fight my way through the Rugby League supporters round the bar and get a pint and take up a seat on the station where I can see the arrivals and hopefully flag my friend Mark down.

I wait. I drink my pint. I buy another pint. I drink the second pint. Outside it rains and clears the streets. Twenty five past twelve, I decide its time for me to head to Chelsea and maybe bump into Mark there.

Once near the ground, I find an Irish bar where there was a good chance of getting served, I order a pint of Caffreys and phone my City supporting friends to find where they are. we swap news and hopes for the afternoon. A guy and his son overhear my conversation and does not mind I support City, and we talk and swap news on our teams; all good stuff really.



I walk to the ground, taking shots of the crowd as I go. I get into the ground, snap the stadium and go back to the concourse and grab a smoothie(!) and then another pint. I watch the end of the Villa?Wolves game on TV; a 0-0 draw! So, with about half an hour before kick off i go up to my seat, take some shots of the players warming up, and then settle down to take in the atmosphere.

The game, was not a classic, but City play well enough; well enough to maybe have snuck a win; but with ten minutes to go, our keeper is sent off, Frank scores the penalty and we slip to a 3-1 defeat. Nothing to be ashamed of, and lots of positives.

And then outside at the full time whistle, for the crush onto the tube to get back to St Pancras to get the train back home. Jools was waiting, which was just as well as the clouds had burst and sent down a real rain that had washed all sorts from the streets, just like Travis said it would.

Thursday 25th August 2011

And hello.

Upon my return from work on Tuesday, Jools was waiting, the deed had been done. In truth we know it was for the best, and that she is now at peace and pain free. Even still, I half-expected to see Little Girl come in, meowing for whatever she might have needed. We never did really guess most of the time, maybe it was for attention, or sweetmeats in aspic. But, she is gone, and now, because of her urination violations, we can leave the bathroom door open and we are conducting trials in letting the cats have full nocturnal roaming rights in the house. All that has happened in the last two nights has been Mulder demanding attention in the wee small hours; we think he’ll settle down in time.

So, yesterday, I had to head up to London village for a course in Greenwich. And it was a very dark half past four when the alarm went off, and after breakfast Jools dropped me off at the station and by six I was speeding through the Kentish countryside in a shiny new train heading to London. I got off at Stratford, and after walking through the station admiring the Olympic village and all the wonderful buildings, got on a DLR train towards Canary Wharf and the Thames and then onto Greenwich beyond.

Although even now writing this, it sounds wonderful, commuting into London in the rush hour is no fun really, and standing on the crowded train, all I saw was potential photographic opportunities. And everywhere were people heading to work, or already there, working away.

So, by the time I get off the train in Greenwich, it is raining; I look for a café, swanky or even a greasy spoon, but nothing doing. So, I head to the hotel where the course is being held, register for the course and take breakfast there instead. Despite all the naughty goodies of an English fry-up being available, I have a huge bowl of fruit salad and yoghurt followed by a crispy brown roll and lots of coffee.

The hotel is in one of the wings in the old Naval College, and is wonderful and historic; outside the lecture room was Hardy’s tomb; it was kismet. The course, however, was anything but interesting. Appreciation of ISO 9001. I’ll let you Google it and see for yourself. I did stay awake, although my concentration went at about three in the afternoon and did my best to look interested and awake until five and time to go home.

Back through crowds of tourists whose only job seemed to be to slow me down and generally be in the way. I really wanted to stay and snap away, as the weather was by now glorious. But my desire to head home, see Jools and the other cats, have dinner, a shower and head to bed was stronger.

Back on the DLR and crowds packed in like sardines; change at Canary Wharf, onto another crowded carriage and back to Stratford. On the world’s shortest bus trip to the International Station and then wait until the next train to Dover. The boredom was shattered by passing Eurostars thrashing through the station at 170mph; now that is impressive.

I get a seat on the train back home, and settle down to watch the countryside slide by in the glow of a late-summer’s evening. Jools was waiting for me in Dover, and we head home and have a luxurious meal of baked beans on toast and two, yes two, cups of tea. And then settle down on the sofa with Scully to watch the Arse play in Europe. I stayed awake, and then as soon as the final whistle went, I headed back up the stairs to bed.

Zzzzzzzzzz.

And today is the anniversary of my birth, and after work we are heading down to the Coastguard pub for a meal and some whisky. Can’t wait.

Tuesday 23rd August 2011

A short post today, not much else to say.

I was not entirely honest when I said the other day not much happening in the world of cats; Little Girl had not been well, but we did not really guess how ill until Sunday, really.

I picked her up, as I usually do at bedtime to take her into the kitchen. I picked her up and cradled her with her chest resting in my forearm. She panicked, badly. she could not breathe.

As we looked the next morning, we could see her breathing shallow and quickly and through her mouth. Not a good sign for a cat. Jools took her to the vet yesterday, and the prognosis was not good; an aggressive tumour causing water in her body cavity, pressing on her lungs and other organs.

Take her home, make her comfortable and bring her back tomorrow.

We did.

She was happy enough, although shattered and fell asleep with her face in the carpet again. I fed her this morning, and she ate well but collapsed again. I bid her farewell, and went to work.

Jools took her to the vets and after a while she fell asleep. And she was at peace.

And thats all I have to say about that.

Sunday 21st August 2011

Its funny isn't it? We spend the whole working week looking forward to the weekend, when we can laze around all day, lay in bed 'till midday and generally slob things around the clock.
And yet once again this morning I found myself awake at five this morning, answering the pleas of Molly for breakfast; so I fed the rest of the clan too. Or those that were present. I tried to go back to sleep, but the pale light of dawn attracted my eyes; so I got up, went downstairs, made a pot of coffee and watched last night's Match of the Day, and took up position on the sofa.

The sun climbed into the sky, and clouds came along and covered it. We did some work in the garden, and then went off in the car to visit Walmer Castle to look at the plants and flowers they have there.

It is a tiresome journey of nearly ten minutes to the gate of the castle, and then an arduous drive of 200 yards to the car park and a trek of some two minutes to the entrance where we flash our membership cards to gain entry.

Phew.



So we head to the ornamental pond to see if there were any dragonflies to snap; there were a few, but just damselflies, and too small and quick to have a chance to snap in flight. We walk round the gardens, to the kitchen garden to see the produce all looking ripe and delicious. The most amazing thing was the artichoke in bloom, looking very much like a huge thistle, because that is just what it is, apparently. The insects did not care as they loved the blooms and the bees were leaving just covered in pollen.

We head to the cafe for a drink and end up having cream teas. A cream tea is tea (no kidding) and a scone. Simple? No, not simple, because each scone is accompanied by a small dish with a pat of butter, another with strawberry jam and another with clotted cream.

The begins the ceremony of cutting the scone, applying the butter; ice cold to make this as difficult as possible; spreading the jam and finally, the cream. Stir the tea in the pot, put milk in the cup, and pour the tea.

And now munch, munch, slurp, munch, munch, slurp, slurp, aahhh.

Back into the gardens for another look round, but the crowds had now arrived and so we head back home.
In the afternoon I cook two small racks of lamb, sautéed potatoes with fresh raspberry jus, fresh corn and fried onions. As good as it sounds my friends.

and then the football.

Norwich draw 1-1, failing to win thanks to an equaliser in the 94th minute; Man City win 2-3 at Bolton, and that is that.

we have just made a litre of tomato purée with the excess garden produce, and after a hectic weekend we are going to relax for the evening.

Maybe.

Saturday 20th August 2011

First of all, Molly news.

She is fine, the wound has nearly healed and she has brought us:

a wren (dead)

A vole (alive)

A mouse (alive at first, then dead)

A liver from animal unknown

Various bird parts

She is doing fine, full of the joys of life, just like the last three weeks never happened.

Anyway, cats apart, life is still good. Or, life, cats included, is still good.



Friday ticked round slowly, until half three when i had to have a conference with my boss. That took 50 minutes, and so the weekend began late, 20 minutes late. So, into the teatime traffic and head back to Dover and our house on the cliffs. Jools has next week off and so had to work late to clear her desk, and so she did not leave until gone six. So, it was late when we sat down to dinner listening to John Cooper Clarke on Radio 4; God I love the BBC.

So, Saturday, we head out in the car just gone eight to find Kit's Coty; a neolithic burial mound, although the mound has gone, there are some bloody large stones left.
So, we park at the bottom of the hill, and since Jools had studied some maps we did find the path up the hill through the trees.



And at the top of the hill was Kit's Coty. It was built in the 5th century after a battle on the plain below. It is a stunning location; I snapped it and snapped it good.

We then drove to Tonge to the home brew shop to get some stuff in order to make some elderberry wine. We buy a fermentation bucket, yeast, corks, a corker and all the other stuff we needed.
And back along the old A2 as we headed towards Sheppy. Past the huge car boot 'fair' and then turn down the narrow bumpy track over the marshes towards Harty. We park up and go for a walk to hunt for butterlies; we see a few and some dragonflies, some I manage to snap, some I don't.



By now it's half twelve and well past opening time; so we head to the Ferry Inn and order ploughmans and drinks and then sit outside as the rest of Kent seems to be arriving for a wedding. Our meals arrive, and so we chomp away whist people watching; dogs got lost in hedges, and guests for the wedding tottered past on stupidly high heels and others in ill-fitting suits.

Time then to head home, whilst listening to the Arse getting their butts kicked by Liverpool. Once home Jools heads out to the garden and after looking at my shots, I start to make another Christmas cake.

and then Ipswich lose 7-1 on TV.

Tuesday 16th August 2011

So, cat update.

When I say cat update, I mean Molly update.

So, after work yesterday, I took a hissing ball of fur, in a cat-proof box, to the vets in Whitfield. I was hoping that if I arrived early enough we might get seen earlier and be back home quick. But no, we waited and waited whilst other cats and dogs were seen. And so I was subjected to wall to wall advertising on the practice’s TV channel, or what was probably a simple computer program. So I now know about dog lung worm, canine tooth hygiene and so on, and it was some relief when we were called into the room to see the vet.



At this point Molly tried to burrow under the towel, but the new kitty box is designed to the lid can come off and lift said unhappy mog right out. So, Molly now cowering on the table, the vet looks at wound, takes scab off, washes wound and gives Molly a jab. Seems that the scab should be removed wherever possible to allow air to get to it. The healing process is almost complete, although it doesn’t look like it. Now that she has had a jab, she can go back out, which is a relief to us and the furniture.

Back home, and open the door to the box, Molly suspects something, and just sits. And then goes into the kitchen and decides its time for dinner. I stroke her as she eats. And then, with a jump she runs outside and we have not seen her since! We assume she came back for breakfast after we left for work. We won’t worry about that now until this evening, as we now know she is prone to staying out as long as she wants.



Jools headed off to yoga, and my friend Gary comes round and we go hunting butterflies; but the sun was hidden behind a cloud and with the breeze there were none where I had snapped loads at the weekend. So, we snapped what was there; hover flies, and head back to the house for a swifter of sloe gin; and mighty fine it was, as it is now nearly a year old.

Time enough for dinner, and being nearly eight, something light; cheese and beans on toast with a huge cuppa! Well, it may not be a la carte, but it hit the spot. I then sat down with Scully to watch the football on TV. She had meowed at six to let me know that my presence was required on sofa duty, but I had other plans for a while.