Brave Soldier

Thursday sees us coming to the end of our penultimate week in Hastings and still doing the rounds of Dad's old haunts, like a stroll down memory lane (to him; obviously we've never been to these places so it's just nice new, unfamiliar places to chase about and sniff). This time Hastings's Alexandra Park is the target, the top end by 'the reservoir' (Buckshole) where Dad and the brothers, as kids, used to catch gudgeon and sticklebacks by dipping empty milk bottles on strings with a tempting piece of bread inside. That was as far as 'angling' got with any of them.

On Friday we were off straight after breakfast, headed towards Faversham and the caravan but this time via helping 2CV Llew to rebuild the steel fire escape on the end of a Steiner School out by Petham (near Canterbury). We drove first to Herne Bay to transfer to Llew's big Volvo estate, well down on its springs as the back was loaded with the chequer-plate treads for the escape steps, with the mud flaps groaning on the ground at every bump. The school is currently on half term, so there were no kids about and it is in a lovely countrified spot - all grass fields and places for dogs to chase about and find interesting smells. That said, we actually spent most of the 4 hours of the job sleeping in the cavernous rear of the Volvo on a big blanket.

There was a brief drama when Dad, silly old fool, wrangling a nut and bolt on one of the treads had a spanner slip off a nut, jerking his right hand too fast at the sharp endge of one of the treads, giving him a nasty gash, an impressive amount of blood and a bit of a wobbly moment. Llew guided him to First Aid where he got bandaged up but the lady advised seeking proper medical aid. They completed the job with Dad helping out one handed where they could and then headed back to the car in Herne Bay, and from there straight to Faversham's minor injury unit where a nice nurse named Sandra gave Dad three stitches and some co-amoxiclav "sweeties". By now Mum was out of work and came round to meet us to head for the caravan; checked with the nurses whether Dad had been a "brave soldier" and presented him with a lollipop much to the amusement of the staff.

Once through that drama, they could begin the weekend proper, but more of that in the next post.

Deefs

Gay Pareeeee

Project Erroll rumbles on and passes a significant milestone. The depot in Maidstone which has been Dad's place of work for the last... oooh... 20+ years, despatches its final cases of chilled goods (ready meals, meat, fish, cream, yogurt, cut flowers etc) and shuts its doors.

There is abit of bitter-sweet ceremonial fun as they select the longest serving employees to throw the switches which kill the refigeration for the last time. The plant here is based on CFC gases which are now illegal. The site has some future as a non-refrigerated depot but this wont involve Dad.

Mum and Diamond, meanwhile, swan off to Gay Paree to catch up on the shopping trip they normally make before Christmas. Bit late Ladies, but we'll let you off this time, especially as Mum has left Dad with explicit instructions re our expectations as to sweeties at bedtime. This is normally Mum's job as Dad is snoring by then! Mum manages to forget her phone charger, so communications have been sporadic and minimal from Le Continent but sufficient have got through to warn Dad up to be at Ashford International at the prescribed pick up time on the required date. Woe betides.....

Dad swerves work for the afternoon, booked to meet Boss of Cambria Volunteers, Basil down at the barge where they have to show a group of History Students from a local school round the barge, the visitor centre and the diminutive gunpowder barge SB Lady of the Lea. This latter is built small (and very well) to be an army ammunitions barge carrying gunpowder and ammo from the works in Waltham Point, down the narrow River Lea with its many locks, past Tottenham and into the Thames proper. She is like a half-scale model of Cambria and could ship 47 tonnes of cargo (Cambria's payload is 170 tonnes).

Dad rushes away from that 'meeting' thinking that next stop is a dental appointment in the Medway Towns, but gets a voice mail saying Dentist has thrown a sickie and all this afternoon's dates must be postponed. Shame! (says Dad in his most convincing voice!)

As for me, I have a "hurty back leg" which is a serious affliction for a dog as it impedes my ability to jump up and scrounge sweeties and to lep' on the furniture. Dad can't see anything wrong but I squeak convincingly when he probes around my toes looking for splinters etc, so I am being officially rested up a day or two to see if it goes away. The theory is I'm such a scatty bird I just caught my toe in some crack or crevise while chasing a c*t.

It's the weekend!

Deefski

Follow the Three Year Old

A dog learns very quickly to0 follow the three year old. In this case M is almost continuously armed with food, some of which is dog-friendly; biscuits, crisps and so on. Being 3 he is fairly careless when it comes to dropping it on the floor, and fairly easily distracted by the TV, or his baby sister, or passing dogs or humans, so the food tends to get put down and forgotten, or at least forgotten for long enough for a nippy dog to sneak in and neck it.

Where ever M is, there too am I, a little shadow sneaking from room to room, while the humans only ever (if I'm lucky) notice the chattering whirlwind of "Mummy... What you doin'?" and "Why" that is preceding me. I'm doing so well off this unexpected bounty, that when it comes to my own meal times, Dad is amazed to find I'm not wolfing the normal portions down with the usual speed.

The humans were up late again with their Murder Mystery night. Mum done it. No surprise there then. She's threatened us with murder on many occasions.

Today, the girls are back to school after the mid term break, and it's Haggis's and my job to take them to school. We leave Megan (Mrs Silverwood distracts her at the opportune moment with a slice of roast beef) on the basis that we need to get there some time before midday, but then with Em-J walking Haggis, and J-M walking me, you'd be amazed how the usual dithering and dawdling gives way to a fast trot. Lots of the girls friends and parents of friends smile at the sight and greet us.

Dad is joking with the girls that they must make us behave, no talking in the back of class, and concentrate on the lessons. He wouldn't really make us go to school all day would he?

Deefer