Kingswood Grammar School class of '59

On Saturday I got a letter from an old school friend of mine, one of the very few that I do still keep in some sort of contact with, telling me about a proposed school reunion in a few weeks and asking me if I was interested in going.
A few years ago, when Friends Reunited was all the rage, I joined and scanned down the lists of names, wondering what had happened to those I remembered but then the moment passed and I think I am now at the stage when I don't really want to be dragged into the past again. School days were mostly OK, although, of course, there were ups and downs, but I never have looked back on them as the best days of my life. Heaven forbid!
The problem is that, as the years go by, we change, so the people we were back then are quite different to who we are now and all we are likely to have in common is the idiosyncrasies of our teachers and who kissed who behind the bike sheds - assuming we can remember, of course. After all, we've done half a century of living since then!
So on balance, I think it's going to be a no. Sometimes, it's better just to stick with the memories.
And anyway, what if no-one remembers me?

Remote preparations

Today was designated by Keith as 'get the caravan ready' day. The lack of rain, slightly raised temperatures and even the odd day of sunshine has put him in holiday mode and we are looking forward to making good use of the caravan this spring and summer. We only bought it at the end of last summer, so didn't get more than a few outings in it, but enjoyed our brief forays into 'wild Wales'.
So Keith has checked all the testical technical stuff and I have done the 'wimmin' stuff, like cleaning.
Paddy? Well, Paddy seemed to think that if he sat firmly in the caravan for as long as it took, it would eventually get moving and take him on his first break of the year. When that failed, he tried a bit of whining and looking dejected too.
Wagons roll!  Well, soon, anyway.

Smart wheels

This drew up outside our house this afternoon. Sadly, it was driven by a potential customer, not Keith's surprise present to me.

Ah well, it wouldn't pull the caravan anyway.

New houses

At last, we have open daffoldils! A bit late for St David's day but just in time for St Patrick and I'm sure David won't mind sharing.

Paddy and I went across the field behind us and walked round the adjoining field where the horses live. They're not there at the moment but they'll be back in a few months.
Then, we were a bit naughty and climbed through the (broken) fencing onto the road so that we could walk past this.









This is where 'they' are building new houses. Since I moved here, seven and a half years ago, house building has become this area's new hobby, all with its attendant disruption to the local road system, of course. The road running by this estate-to-be was closed to us from last August to this February and, since re-opening, guess what? Even more bollards and humps to wreck our cars on.

These will be three, four and five bedroomed houses, according to the blurb but I am wondering who is going to buy them. Many of the new builds around here are either still empty or have been bought up by housing associations.

As a fellow dog walker commented to me this morning, as we surveyed yet another area where it is rumoured that even more new houses might be built, soon there will be nowhere for us to walk the dogs.

The things you see!

This afternoon, Keith and I popped into town to do some 'man' shopping at Maplins. We managed to find a parking space and had just got out of the car when we noticed another car parking in a perfect diagonal across another parking space nearby. The woman driver got out and disappeared into a nearby shop, having omitted to buy a parking ticket, followed, a few seconds later, by her passenger, also female. What caused me to stop and stare and wonder if I had suddenly dropped into a parallel universe, though, was the fact that said passenger was clad only in dressing gown (hopefully with pyjamas underneath) and slippers. She too disappeared into the nearest shop, while Keith and I sauntered along to Maplins.
Sadly, I was so stunned I didn't manage to get my phone out quickly enough to take a photo, so I'm afraid you will just have to take my word for it.
And before you ask, no, I hadn't been at the cooking sherry!

What a nice clean boy!

On Sunday, Jenny seemed to be in super-cleaning mode. She made Keith tidy his computer desk and did lots of hoovering, dusting and washing. I was getting dizzy just watching her, but then, THEN, she started on me.
First of all I thought I heard her use the 'b' word, yes, that;s right, BATH, but I hoped I had heard wrong. After all, I do get things wrong sometimes, like when I think she has said 'Rush out through the door and look for a cat to chase' when in fact, she has said 'Stay'. Unfortunately, this time, I was right and the next thing I knew, I had been enticed upstairs and plonked in the bath with the shower cascading the wet stuff all over me. The indignity! And to make matters worse, she used this smelly shampoo stuff, to get me clean, she said. This was followed by a good towelling and a bit of a blow from the hairdryer before I was allowed downstairs again.
Doesn't she realise that we terriers just don't 'do' clean and sweet-smelling?
"What a nice clean boy," she said, to add insult to injury!
Well when we're out for our walks this week, the first dog to smirk about me smelling like a bunch of flowers is going to get a good thumping!
And that goes double for cats and squirrels!

Tidy NASA - again

After a couple of days rebuilding his computers, which meant that the living room looked like an extension of the van or the shed, depending on your point of view, Keith was, this morning, presuaded to tidy up all the myriad wires and leads which had been nestling underneath NASA and even to tidy the top. (And I only had to hold his head under the tap for ten minutes to obtain his acquiescence!)

Now long-time readers of this blog will no doubt recall that this has happened before, several times, in fact but you never know, maybe this time he will be persuaded (via iron fist in velvet glove) to keep it tidy.

Here's hoping!

(I think the groaning I can hear in the background is Keith suffering from withdrawal symptoms...)