BBQs, hedgehogs, War of the Worlds, Blenheim, cycling, neddies, golf and discipline.

Location : Bedroom
Listening : Radio 4
Time started : 2027
Time completed : 2251

I’ll start with the best news I’ve heard in 6 months.

Yesterday the piece of human detritus who performed unlicensed plastic surgery on Milk Yuk was sentenced to 6 years. The DS in the case was disappointed, he was expecting 8 ; but in the same week as a man who chopped up his wife & hid her in the freezer got 2 years, I can’t help but be pleased. Milk Yuk & Alex seem satisfied too & neither had to face cross-examination which has to be good news.

* Stop press – no appeal, no time off for good behaviour, it’s the full 6 years *

The oxygen-sapping, low-life scum has already served 6 months on remand, lets hope wherever he is, he’s having his rectum enlarged daily by a large, dry, blunt object. If he decides he can’t cope with his stripy sunrises & hangs himself, so much the better.

Any…way

I love where I live, it’s a comfortable, airy flat brimming with plants and candles & just lately I’ve been treating it like a hotel & not spending much time here due to work.

Which is why tonight, I’ve really enjoyed pottering here.

After a revitalising 40 winks I’ve done some washing, caught up on some paperwork, replaced my reading material in the small room (different copies of Horse & Hound) had a bath & finally put my golf gear in the wash (bit shameful really as I played Tuesday, more of that later)

It’s now catch-up time on blog before I completely forget everything that’s happened.

First & foremost – congratulations Michelle on an excellent Taotaoroa Tattler entry concerning Eric’s nocturnal activities – don’t you love it when a story explains so accurately the events unfolding that you can imagine it in your mind’s eye ? Michelle – your description of Eric’s ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t hear THAT ?’ expression had me giggling to myself. The only thing you didn’t do properly was to hold the torch steady for him. Remember my wildly oscillating beam when he asked me to help him kill small things ?

‘But Eric – it’s a mummy & it has a baybeeeee’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll shoot the baby as well’

Last time we talked I had just finished nights and was relishing the thought of a sociable few days off.

BBQ’s & hedgehogs.

On Fri 15th it was a bbq at Weeny’s. Weeny has a new addition to the family in the form of Steve. Steve is ginger & white, about 4 months old & is a bit mental. Steve was bought to keep Cato (‘not now Catoooooh’) company as Cato was bullying Murphy (Murf the smurf) With me so far ? Steve & Cato spent the evening gallivanting, leaping, attacking the washing on the line & generally behaving in fine feline fashion. Any attempt to cuddle, pick up or interact with said moggies was met with scorn. Murphy only appeared briefly to dribble over some catnip.

Weeny produced from scratch, the most delicious seafood linguine, packed with prawns, langoustines, mussels, monkfish, tomatoes & garlic. It was gorgeous.

To understand how lovely it was I need to tell you (with apologies to Weeny) a little story. Many years ago Weeny invited me for dinner and served some turkey steaks. Erring on the side of caution & not wishing to serve rare poultry Weeny grilled said steaks for 20 minutes.
No problem there, you may think … but each side ? The offending ‘carpet burgers’ as they were subsequently dubbed have caused (me) much mirth over the years.

These days Weeny is by her own confession a ‘foodie’ spending the equivalent of the GNP of Ecuador on glossy food mags & very good quality food. Mr Weeny is the recipient of beautiful home cooked meals every evening …’Not that he notices’ Weeny cheerfully admits.

Weeny, here & now, in pubic, I promise never ever to refer to said turkey burgers again (unless drunk)

We spent a very pleasant evening, under the stars, in the garden, getting tiddly and watching Steve stalking the hedgehog who was scavenging the fallen langoustine shells. Steve was very amusing, following the ‘hog at close quarters & occasionally looking to the people as much for emotional back-up as anything else. His expression seemed to say ‘Look, look, can you believe it ? Can’t you see this thing in my garden ? Are you just going to sit there ?’

We retired indoors when the candles no longer illuminated our faces & took our cue to leave when Mr Weeny fell asleep on the sofa.

Weeny, who is currently bored in her job, has an interview tomorrow to become a SOCO (Scenes of Crime Officer – you know the ones you see on tv brushing dust on crime scenes ?)

Very best of British Weeny – you’ll do just fine.

War of the Worlds.

On the Saturday, it was garden centres to find some shrubs to brighten the paved yard at the foot of the flat. After a lunch large enough to choke a horse Milk Yuk & I went to see War of the Worlds – ¾’s of which was excellent. So shortly after the bombings I found the graphic scenes of destruction uncomfortably realistic. I felt a bit wobbly if I’m honest. As someone who’s finding Tom Cruise (sorry Mummeh) more & more embarrassing in real life I am pleased to report he played the lead to perfection. I found his portrayal of a dad who struggles to get things right with his kids painful to watch.

I won’t spoil things for you if you haven’t seen the movie but the last 10 minutes are so slow as to be moribund & the ending isn’t the twist I was promised in a review I read.

The next film I want to see is ‘The Descent’ which is promised to be a ‘fright a minute’. Don’t think I’ll be taking Cocky after she left bruises on my upper arm after ‘What Lies Beneath’.

Blenheim.

Sunday was supposed to be a very early start to get to Blenheim early enough to look around the palace, prior to the Game Fair. The early start didn’t quite materialise but we still got there in time to see a Shetland Grand National, a motorcycle display team, gundog training and … butterflies (well I’ve never been in a butterfly house before)

Cycling.

On Monday Milk Yuk & I cycled from Windsor to Kingston along the Thames tow-path, replicating a journey which I was first shown by Roger. We were lucky with the weather, not too hot & the only rain shower of the day caught us just as we reached the pub for dinner. It was a flat 25 miles and the only downside of a fantastic day was that when I cycled anywhere for the next 2 days, I thought I’d fractured my ar5e.

After the driving range on Tuesday & riding on Wednesday, it was back to work from Thursday 21st to Sunday 24th which were 4 horrendously busy late turns which consisted of suspect object after suspect vehicle. I don’t have any qualms about the pubic ringing these through, after all, that’s what we’ve asked them to do. I do have a problem with the numpties who ring in with the sort of stuff you wouldn’t believe.

I caught this conversation between one of my colleagues Carl, a particularly straight-talking individual & one of the previously mentioned numpties.

Numpty - ‘Someone has put litter on my hedge, I want the police to come & remove it’

Carl – ‘Have you been watching the news recently ?’

The main problem is that the Kingston public (& every other borough I’m sure) see no correlation between the bombings & their local police. What they need to be told (in the local paper perhaps ?) is that on a daily basis, 50% of our resources go up town to do high vis patrols (yellow jackets) & stand on the crime scenes where exhibits are still being removed. My team have been working 13 hour days for the last 2 weeks, so far I haven’t but that’s another story. Here endeth the lecture.

Neddies.

On Monday I met up with Cocky for some neddy-pestering. Both our mounts were playing up & we greeted each other with the words ‘Mine’s being a bugger’ Her steed Snippet had done laps of the field that Cocky had tried to coax him from and Hannah the neddy I was riding was, as she seems almost permanently to be ‘in season’.

As we passed a paddock full of geldings Hannah called coquettishly to them, instigating a running, kicking battle amongst the boys so that they could hang, lust-crazed over the fence, vying for her affections.

Hannah refused point-blank to walk away from her admirers, my flailing legs only causing her to spin in small, hormone-fuelled, squealing circles. If you know about neddies you’ll know the phrase ‘winking & squirting’ if you don’t I’m not going into explanations.

Cocky & I did the Givons Grove ride & spent a hugely enjoyable 2 hours catching up on our news. She had just hosted a party for 100 at hers for Garth’s 40th birthday. My friends are starting to celebrate their fortieth’s – how the hell did that happen ?

Cocky provided me with quote of the week when she advised me she was thinking about cutting down the number of breast feeds she was doing for her 5 month old girl twins. It’s not the same for you because you don’t hear her lovely, lilting Irish drawl but I practically fell of the horse laughing when in response to my question ‘But I thought your milk was drying up anyway ?’ she replied ‘Carol – I could feed Epsom at the moment’.

Cow’s ar5e & banjo.

On Tuesday I played in a society day at Pyrford golf club. The course was challenging and looked very sad & dry. The morning started in a leisurely fashion with a 9-hole Texas Scramble after tea & bacon rolls.

I was playing in a four with Ricky, Mike & Ben.

Ricky is one of my work colleagues who I have tremendous respect for. He lost a leg a couple of years ago to a blood clot & now wears a false leg from mid-thigh. To watch Ricky balance all his weight on one leg whilst swinging & driving his shots of the tee is an inspiration. His cheerful, matter of fact approach to his uniped status has won him many friends.

Mike is a long-in-the-tooth DCI, hugely laconic & a self-confessed miserable git. Luckily I have played with him before & pay no heed to his abuse such as ‘You played that with absolutely no effort at all’ as he bawled after a particularly pathetic attempt of mine at a tee shot.

Ben is Mike’s son and is a very talented, if slightly inconsistent player. He spent most of the morning retrieving my wayward shots, it was like playing golf with Barley.

The morning was best forgotten about, I couldn’t hit a cow’s ar5e with a banjo & it was nothing to do with me that we parred every hole & came 2nd overall.

After a very enjoyable Ploughman’s lunch I went out refreshed & played the best 18 holes I’ve ever played, resulting in my being awarded best lady golfer & talk of my handicap being cut for the 1st time. In truth, there were only 2 of us, but I did beat the other lady by 10 points & more importantly beat a sergeant I particularly dislike by 11 points.

My high points were parring 2 holes, a 4 & a 5. I’ve only ever parred one hole before & such was my excitement on the 4 that I waved my putter aloft, yelling ‘Get in there, Briggsy’ & spontaneously leapt on & hugged a terrified looking Mike who was holding the flag in one hand & his putter in the other. He asked for a bit more notice next time. It was the most enjoyable day’s golf I’ve ever played & I will be texting Andy in Cyprus to bore him. I have already bored Stuart.

The evening passed in a blur of eating, speeches & prize giving, only spoiled by Ricky leaving early as his leg was hurting him. I can’t wait to tackle my next day at the stunningly gorgeous Richmond golf course on Thursday 4th August. No doubt my flush of success will have faded by then & I’ll be back to my usual game.

Discipline

I won’t bore you with the details but for political inter-departmental reasons I’ve been threatened with discipline this week. The crux of the matter was that a job I did recently had hacked off a senior member of my management. They wanted me to apologise (for what I’m still not entirely sure) or ‘face discpline’

Luckily for me I’m in the fortunate position to have some experienced & sensible friends in the Met. I can always call on them in times of trouble & they’re my stalwarts. Amongst them are S, T & R. All 3 advised that the ‘discipline’ was a shallow, ill-researched bluff, but I won’t lie & say I haven’t been upset & very stressed for the last 4 days.

It almost beggars belief that you can receive a quality of service report for doing long hours in demanding conditions & then face discipline for doing the self-same job doesn’t it ? Still – there’s no accounting for the fact that everywhere you go you’ll find a blustering bully of a manager is there ?

S – in particular, gave me some very sound advice & puppy-walked me through a couple of very difficult days. He advised me to do something I really didn’t want to do, not because I didn’t trust him but because I was terrified of facing the person he recommended. It is to his credit that he didn’t lose his rag when after explaining EXACTLY why I must do as he suggested I bleated ‘Would it be very bad if I didn’t do that because I’m scared ?’ He also made the point that I could & would win the battle but I needed to allow the manager room to be able to back down graciously otherwise I might win & still need to either jobhunt or permanently check my back for knives. T advised me on how to kill someone slowly.

A thank you too to Milk Yuk for patiently listening as I buttonholed him daily with the minutiae of the very boring (I’m sure) updates. It means much to know someone’s unconditionally on your side, doesn’t it ?

Stan

I’m working a couple of rest days at the yard Big Guy. Are you around either Sat 30th 1430 – 2230 or Wed 10th 12.30 – 2030. Would be god to catch up with a froffee ?

Tomorrow it’s a visit to the lovely Angie’s for dinner, moggy-hugging & a long catch-up. Angie, Cocky has asked if things go well with her day tomorrow time-wise, could she join us please ? I’ll let you know as early in the day as poss if it’s a definite.

I think that’s about it, I promise not to leave it so long next time.

In the next thrilling instalment I promise a photo worth waiting for.

Cx