Christmas comes and Christmas goes
Totally bloated with a further extension of the waistband needed urgently.
Mind befuddled by too much drink.
Eyes weary with too much television.
Ears ringing with Cliff Richard's singing about blasted Mistletoe and Wine.
Cheeks sore with the tears shed for Eastenders,Corrie and Emmerdale .
Mouth set in a permanent smile after watching Morecambe and Wise.
Lack of sleep because of all the foregoing.
Broke again and waiting for a New Years Card from the Bank Manager
Roll on next Christmas
The thoughts, moans, current hates and opinions from an old man of 75. Although I try to write in a light cheerful way, the reasons for the blogs are brought about because something has poked me into commenting on my deepest thoughts.
Tuesday, 27 December 2011
Sunday, 18 December 2011
Overseas Holiday abandoned
decided that my days of travel overseas should end. No more getting up
early to the Airport at some ungodly hour to arrive two hours before the
flight even though you have spent many hours the previous day trying to
book a seat and print your boarding pass.
At the Airport you are greeted with the sight of almost the entire country milling around either in a lost way looking for the correct check in desk or trying to find some place to start enjoying their holiday with a meal or at least a drink.
You queue up at the check in desk even though you have your Boarding Pass. Stand in front of a lady who looks down on you and asks you if you have packed your own bag (who else would) and has anyone asked you to carry anything (not at the prices they charge for excess baggage).
Your bags disappear and you are dismissed after being told to watch the Screen for Boarding details. What can we do now? is there anything to do?
So you join the increasing thong of lost people trying to look pleased and worry free and hoping that the flight has not been delayed because the incoming flight had to put down in some unknown Airport to throw off a drunken Brit who thinks the plane is a theme pub on the island of Minorca where he had the previous night been allowed to sleep with the Bar's cat after forgetting where his hotel was.
Having decided that the best place is the one which, you don't yet know, is as far away as possible from the Gate Number you have to board by, you decide that perhaps it would be a good thing to try and start the book which you have brought with you for the holiday.
Wrong!
There is an announcement over the public address system which you are unable to hear from your present location. OK, with the stern warning from the check in attendant still ringing in your ears you think might be important so you decide to move to another spot to enable you to keep up with the latest news in the Airport.
The game of musical chairs starts. There are no chairs available at the location you have chosen so you stand up, waiting for the next announcement.
Then it comes! What is it about? Just a security announcement about left bags.
At last some seats become available and you collapse to regenerate your legs and the will to live.
Another announcement.
This time to tell you that your flight has been delayed for some undefined period due to 'Operational Problems'. Time to worry! Does that mean the plane is unfit to travel and needs a new engine or the Pilot has been delayed by the traffic jam caused by people all trying to get to the Airport to check in and fly.
Time for a drink and something to eat as you don't know when you will get the next chance.
Just got served and an announcement comes through to advise you that your flight has been called and you are boarding at Gate Number six thousand four hundred and eighty.
The trek starts and you realise that you are walking the best part of half way to where you left from that morning. Eventually you arrive at the gate where again seating is limited so you stand idle until you are called by numbers to take your place on the plane.
Then enter you do into the vast tunnel that is the fuselage of the plane complete with its rows and rows of tiny seats. You enter,or at least try, and sit down in your designated seat to find that it has been made to suit the size of a small Pygmy with 60mm legs and no kneecaps. Hip size is in inverse.proportion to the leg length
Oh well make the most of it as it's only for four hours and you are going on holiday.
Belt in and listen to the nice lady giving her speech about the way she is going to get out first if the plane crashes whilst we hide our heads in our knees so we cannot see her go.
Off we go down the runway with the nice lady walking along the isle gazing at your neither regions to see if you are playing with your buckle or if you have got a tube of Polos in you hand which might be a danger to someone and should be put in the overhead locker with the rest of your hand luggage.
Unfortunately the only place you could find for that was about ten seats behind you on the opposite side of the plane so she confiscates them and promises to give them back when you land providing they do not blow up during the flight.
At last you are off flying through the sky and marvelling that you have survived the massive g-force speed of take off which impounded such a strain on your kidneys that you now desperately want to go to the toilet. Forget it. Announcement from the Boss up front to keep your seat belt on and stay seated as they are expecting to encounter turbulent air . I suspect that this is some ploy to save fuel either because walking towards the back of the plane takes more fuel or flushing the toilet slows the plane down.
What a fine time to bring the drinks trolley through the plane. All you can think of is a very stiff drink to take your mind off the need for the toilet. They even throw a small bag of peanuts onto your tray as a 'Thank you' gesture.
The seat belts sign goes off and you struggle up to go to the toilet only to find that the way is blocked by another flight attendant coming along with a trolley and giving the look that she has the right of way under all circumstances.
No alternative but to sit down again and await your turn to be served with one of those lovely little trays obviously designed by the same person who designed the seating. Open the foil and there it is, the same omelet that you did not eat on your last flight six months before. The bacon has been renewed because the last piece disintegrated when they tried to move it to a safe place after the last flight.OK, save it again for the next time and go straight for the cake which was last seen on an Iberia flight sixteen years ago.
At last you arrive and depart the plane for the 2 hour walk to Passport Control.
Sour look when you try your language skills on the Official as he waves you through with a quick flurry of his baton.
Oh dear. The luggage turntable has broken down and you again wait with the other 300 odd people who think they will stand a better chance of speeding up their departure from the Airport by standing right up close to the turntable together with trolleys and kids.
But look happy because apart from a two hour ride in a coach you are on holiday for almost two weeks before you go through all the trauma of the journey again on the way back home.
Next time BOGNOR REGIS HERE WE COME
At the Airport you are greeted with the sight of almost the entire country milling around either in a lost way looking for the correct check in desk or trying to find some place to start enjoying their holiday with a meal or at least a drink.
You queue up at the check in desk even though you have your Boarding Pass. Stand in front of a lady who looks down on you and asks you if you have packed your own bag (who else would) and has anyone asked you to carry anything (not at the prices they charge for excess baggage).
Your bags disappear and you are dismissed after being told to watch the Screen for Boarding details. What can we do now? is there anything to do?
So you join the increasing thong of lost people trying to look pleased and worry free and hoping that the flight has not been delayed because the incoming flight had to put down in some unknown Airport to throw off a drunken Brit who thinks the plane is a theme pub on the island of Minorca where he had the previous night been allowed to sleep with the Bar's cat after forgetting where his hotel was.
Having decided that the best place is the one which, you don't yet know, is as far away as possible from the Gate Number you have to board by, you decide that perhaps it would be a good thing to try and start the book which you have brought with you for the holiday.
Wrong!
There is an announcement over the public address system which you are unable to hear from your present location. OK, with the stern warning from the check in attendant still ringing in your ears you think might be important so you decide to move to another spot to enable you to keep up with the latest news in the Airport.
The game of musical chairs starts. There are no chairs available at the location you have chosen so you stand up, waiting for the next announcement.
Then it comes! What is it about? Just a security announcement about left bags.
At last some seats become available and you collapse to regenerate your legs and the will to live.
Another announcement.
This time to tell you that your flight has been delayed for some undefined period due to 'Operational Problems'. Time to worry! Does that mean the plane is unfit to travel and needs a new engine or the Pilot has been delayed by the traffic jam caused by people all trying to get to the Airport to check in and fly.
Time for a drink and something to eat as you don't know when you will get the next chance.
Just got served and an announcement comes through to advise you that your flight has been called and you are boarding at Gate Number six thousand four hundred and eighty.
The trek starts and you realise that you are walking the best part of half way to where you left from that morning. Eventually you arrive at the gate where again seating is limited so you stand idle until you are called by numbers to take your place on the plane.
Then enter you do into the vast tunnel that is the fuselage of the plane complete with its rows and rows of tiny seats. You enter,or at least try, and sit down in your designated seat to find that it has been made to suit the size of a small Pygmy with 60mm legs and no kneecaps. Hip size is in inverse.proportion to the leg length
Oh well make the most of it as it's only for four hours and you are going on holiday.
Belt in and listen to the nice lady giving her speech about the way she is going to get out first if the plane crashes whilst we hide our heads in our knees so we cannot see her go.
Off we go down the runway with the nice lady walking along the isle gazing at your neither regions to see if you are playing with your buckle or if you have got a tube of Polos in you hand which might be a danger to someone and should be put in the overhead locker with the rest of your hand luggage.
Unfortunately the only place you could find for that was about ten seats behind you on the opposite side of the plane so she confiscates them and promises to give them back when you land providing they do not blow up during the flight.
At last you are off flying through the sky and marvelling that you have survived the massive g-force speed of take off which impounded such a strain on your kidneys that you now desperately want to go to the toilet. Forget it. Announcement from the Boss up front to keep your seat belt on and stay seated as they are expecting to encounter turbulent air . I suspect that this is some ploy to save fuel either because walking towards the back of the plane takes more fuel or flushing the toilet slows the plane down.
What a fine time to bring the drinks trolley through the plane. All you can think of is a very stiff drink to take your mind off the need for the toilet. They even throw a small bag of peanuts onto your tray as a 'Thank you' gesture.
The seat belts sign goes off and you struggle up to go to the toilet only to find that the way is blocked by another flight attendant coming along with a trolley and giving the look that she has the right of way under all circumstances.
No alternative but to sit down again and await your turn to be served with one of those lovely little trays obviously designed by the same person who designed the seating. Open the foil and there it is, the same omelet that you did not eat on your last flight six months before. The bacon has been renewed because the last piece disintegrated when they tried to move it to a safe place after the last flight.OK, save it again for the next time and go straight for the cake which was last seen on an Iberia flight sixteen years ago.
At last you arrive and depart the plane for the 2 hour walk to Passport Control.
Sour look when you try your language skills on the Official as he waves you through with a quick flurry of his baton.
Oh dear. The luggage turntable has broken down and you again wait with the other 300 odd people who think they will stand a better chance of speeding up their departure from the Airport by standing right up close to the turntable together with trolleys and kids.
But look happy because apart from a two hour ride in a coach you are on holiday for almost two weeks before you go through all the trauma of the journey again on the way back home.
Next time BOGNOR REGIS HERE WE COME
Friday, 16 December 2011
Some facts about the Monday Club in 2011
THE MONDAY CLUB
DURING 2011 WE HAVE SPENT APPROX 105 DAYS IN THE PUB
THIS REPRESENTS SOME 315 HOURS EACH OR BETTER
STILL ABOUT
EIGHT WORKING MENS WEEKS.
AS A GROUP THIS WOULD BE ABOUT 45 WEEKS WHICH ONLY LEAVES
SEVEN WEEKS TO LIVE THE REST OF OUR LIVES WITH
OUR FAMILIES
I THINK WE SHOULD RECTIFY THIS.
TO THIS END I PROPOSE THAT WE ADD ANOTHER
MEETING DAY TO OUR
WEEK AS
NO-ONE SHOULD BE EXPECTED TO WORK FOR 45 WEEKS
WITHOUT SOME
RELAXATION
THEREFORE CAN WE CONVENE ON FRIDAYS AS WELL AND
THIS WILL
GIVE US A RELAXATION TIME OF THREE HOURS A WEEK TO DO NOTHING IN BUT SIT
AT THE BAR
AND MOAN.
I WILL DISCUSS THE DRINKS SITUATION LATER
Although this blog is really relevant to members of the Monday Club it is also a nice exercise in manipulation of figures to suit the final requirements
Wednesday, 23 November 2011
Thursday, 15 September 2011
Tuesday, 30 August 2011
Photographs entered for the Emsworth Show 2011
I was fortunate to win 1st prize in the 'People at work in Emsworth' Class
The picture of our Exotic Cat 'Truillord Have Faith in me' was in the 'Any Subject Class for A5 print' but was unplaced.
This is a photo of our neighbour's boy George trying to escape and was in the 'Any Subject class A4 size'. This was unplaced.
I will try again next year God willing.
The picture of our Exotic Cat 'Truillord Have Faith in me' was in the 'Any Subject Class for A5 print' but was unplaced.
This is a photo of our neighbour's boy George trying to escape and was in the 'Any Subject class A4 size'. This was unplaced.
I will try again next year God willing.
Saturday, 20 August 2011
This and that Photos from round about in early August
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