Once more, in 2017

Philippa has been quiet today, but seems incredibly relieved and content. Sometimes you don’t realise how unhappy something is making you until you get yourself away from it. There you go - a little bonus bit of homespun Rory bullshit philosophy as we reach the end of the year. 
To be less sentimental and more scientific - I’ve developed a theory that I think is worth investigating. I think humans have evolved to the point of producing a Christmas Eating Gene. I think the years of December indulgence have led our bodies to release hormones that increase our metabolism and expand our stomachs and therefore be able to cope with the thousand-or-so-percent increase in intake that we put ourselves through every Christmas. By my reckoning, it kicks in on about the 20th of the month, and works through until January 2nd or 3rd.  How else could we go from feeling full after soup or a salad in November, to shovelling half a roast turkey and at least three other kinds of meat and seventeen different veg down our gullets on Christmas Day without even a hint of indigestion? How else could we follow that up with enough savoury snacks to give fatal blood pressure to a rhino while sitting at the table playing Monopoly? How else could we consume half the annual output of chocolate from Cadburys in a three-hour spell on Boxing Day with a Harry Potter film on in the background? 
I’m telling you, it happens. And if you’d like to sponsor my research into this phenomenon (I reckon £700,000 for an in-depth two-year study should just about cover it) please get in contact forthwith. 

RC 31-12-17

A change is a-comin' (and not just on the calendar)

Philippa will be arriving home anytime in the next hour or so, and a new phase of her life will begin. Since we’ve been together she’s only ever had one job, and that ends today. I’m expecting her to be a conflicted contradiction of scared, excited, upset, sad, reflective, terrified and elated, and I expect that to go on for a while. Some of the people who work there wanted to take her out tonight for a meal and some drinks but she politely declined. She said she’d rather save that until later in January, so there was something to look forward to in the New Year. I suspect that was just a way of deflecting and getting out of it without offending anyone, and that it will never come to pass. It’s hard to say how her Uncle Tom will be. He might see her off with a huge bunch of flowers and a tearful hug, or he might ignore her completely and let her walk away without a word. You never can tell with him. He wasn’t exactly pleased when she handed in her resignation, but once she explained why she was leaving - the daily travelling, the urge to be a mum, etc - he melted and became her uncle rather than her boss and gave her a big hug. So it might be okay. Or he might be an ogre today because he read his horoscope and the moon is in Asparagus or something. Actually, thinking about it, he’s taken the family skiing for a week so he won’t even be there!
She doesn’t start the training for the new job until Monday 15th January so she’ll have a bit of time for a chill-down and an adjustment. I hope it goes well, bless her, she’s very nervous about it and she‘s highly-strung at the best of times. She’s arranged a couple of days out with friends, and a trip somewhere with both my sisters, so that’s good. Best for her to keep occupied rather than sit and fret about ’have I done the right thing?’ for a fortnight. As someone who has moved around the old job market a bit in my time I guess I’m well positioned to help her and advise her, but the truth is she’d rather have a naked jacuzzi with Jeffrey Archer than ever listen to my advice, so maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut and give her the occasional glass of wine. 
Speaking of which - I have a nice bottle of fizzy Pinot Noir that needs opening, ready for her return….

RC 30-12-17

Christmas re-cap

Hope you're having a truly wondrous Christmastime. If you're thinking "What's he talking about? It's all done and dusted now" then I pity you. You just haven't got the hang of this time of year at all. If I may quote the excellent 'Miracle on 34th Street' (from 1947) - "Christmas isn't a day; it's a state of mind."
Or to put it another, more Rory-esque way, 'It ain't a day, bitches, it's a fortnight, and more...'

It was strangely okay being at work on Boxing Day. It's just a shame that half the population of Suffolk seemed to be there as well. The newspeople reported yesterday that many major cities were surprisingly quiet, and the theory was that people were doing their sales shopping online from the comfort of their own home. That may be true for electronics stuff, but a hell of a lot of folk were pouring into the car park and pouring groceries into their boots. Maybe they were stocking up for the rest of the week and the New Year celebrations, I don't know, but precious few of them came our way for fuel so it was a quiet day really. Not surprising though - if I showed you our takings for the four days up to Christmas Eve you'd wonder why anyone would need a refill this side of Valentines Day.

I'd expected to be depressed and staring out of the window feeling sorry for myself, but actually the day flew by. I got to watch Dr Who and Mrs Browns Boys on iPlayer while pretending to work in my office and I ate a LOT of leftovers and snacks, so it was a happy little filling station mancave of my own making that I inhabited most of the day. And I get tomorrow and Friday off now so that makes it all worthwhile.

I've been drinking advocaat tonight. It's horrible and I only ever drink it at Christmas and I don't know why I do it, but it probably explains a lot of the content of this blog posting.

Love you

RC 27-12-17

Xmas almost

I really don’t like doing short inconsequential blog entries, but I’m at work today, it’s my anniversary tomorrow, then it’s Christmas, then I’m back at work, so I won’t be online much. So I just wanted to take this opportunity to wish you A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS and I’ll speak to you next week.

xxx

RC 23-12-17

A Christmas Story

And so, on the 21st day of December, three things happened to Mr Rory Chesworth, esq. He found his excitement ramping up as it was getting so close to Christmas; he realised he had completed all work tasks that needed doing before the busy Yuletide and New Year period; and he awoke with the dreaded festive bug that had been knocking down his work colleagues like pins in a professional bowling alley. 
Actually, that’s a slight exaggeration. All I really have is a bit of a cold, but fiction is made more readable by being a bit extreme, so maybe we can all pretend I have flu? Then I can sound very heroic by coming into work today, when really all I had to do different this morning was take a couple of paracetamol and pick up a hankie.
It’s very misty here. Not exactly seasonal weather, but at least it’s warmed up a bit. The novelty of scraping ice off the car twice a day wore off very quickly, so it’s nice that we can just go about our daily business now without wearing three layers of thermals and a hip-mounted spray can of de-icer. 
I find a sore throat is often soothed by a curry, so I’m off to the staff canteen now for a £2.99 Masala. 

RC 21-12-17

kudos/respect

I don’t like to praise big business, but I guess if I’m going to criticise them online then I have to be prepared to give them credit.
I had a reply to my photo and e-mail re: the breakfast cereal unpleasantness and I have to say it was brilliant. An apology, an acceptable explanation of how rare incidents like this can occur despite stringent safety measures, and a nice voucher to be redeemed at a store of my choice. The voucher is a nice touch, but even putting the finances aside I got more than I hoped for or expected.
Good on ‘em. 

RC 20-12-17

Pre-Christmas cheer/craziness

So much for my month-long spell of not moaning! Sorry about yesterdays whinge. I just thought I’d share my pain with you, and having an online moan is strangely cathartic and liberating. I hate seeing other peoples comments on websites but obviously it’s different when I want to have my own say. Hypocrite, you say? Yeah - but that’s the least of my problems. I’m also an obsessive, hypochondriac, insomniac, misanthropic spendthrift. If Charles Dickens had invented a character like me he would have been criticised for over-exaggerating and slipping into impossible description. Yes, that’s right, I’m a narcissist too.

What the Hell was THAT all about???

RC 19-12-17

You get what you (over)pay for?

As it’s Christmas time, I decided to push the boat out and treat myself a little, so I bought some proper Weetabix instead of the supermarket own brand ones that cost a third of the price. I soon regretted my decision. This morning, I had that satisfying moment of cutting one of the biscuits in half with a spoon, only to notice while lifting it to my mouth that there was a long black hair nicely woven within it. It was literally hanging out of the centre of the ‘bix as I moved it up to my mouth. For those of you not familiar with my appearance, and who might be thinking that it came from me, let me tell you I have rapidly thinning BROWN hair. My wife’s hair is much, much darker but is also cut fairly short at the moment. It’s a bit longer at the back, but certainly isn’t ten inches long, like the bad boy that was dangling from my breakfast at five to eight this morning.
Suffice to say my appetite disappeared quicker than fans of Kevin Spacey’s acting have disappeared over the past couple of months, and a photo and accompanying e-mail is currently sitting in the complaints department of the customer services division at their Head Office. Or maybe it’s sitting in some minimum wage  cyber secretarys inbox somewhere on the Indian sub-continent. Either way if I don’t get a big Christmas hamper from them I’m never spending money on their products again. 

RC 18-12-17

Advent Adventurous

I think we’ve actually finished all our Christmas preparations! Admittedly we’ve gone low-key this year so there hasn’t been that much to purchase and plan, but it still feels good to know that everything that needs doing is pretty much done, when there’s still 10 days to play with!
House is decorated, tree is lovely, presents are wrapped, cards have been posted, Christmas food is ordered, meals are planned, freezer is stocked already. There really seems little else to think about. So I may as well indulge in a little festive haiku:

Rum-infused mince pies
Dollop of brandy butter
A bit much, perhaps?

Steamed Christmas pudding
Traditional turkey lunch
But sprouts or no sprouts?

In January
Will I be glad it’s all gone?
Or sad it’s over?

From mid-November
Christmas is rammed down your throats 
Aren’t you sick of it?

If I was an elf
I’d stow away on the sleigh
And go with Santa

RC 14-12-17

Emergency measures!

We’ve had a flu virus sweep through the supermarket staff like a road sweeper sweeping through leaves. It’s ridiculous how many people are off sick this week. Even allowing for some of them taking advantage of the situation and leaping on the bandwagon it’s still alarming. They’ve had to borrow staff from other locations, bring in a few people from agencies and ask the ones who are well to do some extra hours. Tonight they’re actually closing for a few hours so they can have an outside cleaning firm come in and do a top-to-bottom deep clean and try to stop the thing in its tracks. Its been carnage. Thankfully it doesn’t seem to have forced its way across the car park to pollute those of us in the filling station, but that might change yet. I keep getting dragged over to the store to help out the other managers so I’m probably riddled with whatever germ it is we’re dealing with. 

RC 13-12-17

Fat man in training

We had the annual trying-out-of-Christmas-cooking at Ted and Beryls yesterday. It’s got a bit more subdued in recent years due to their advancing age and increased frailty, but it’s still a welcome day on the calendar and an important part of our December traditions. The highlight this year was the punch - a curious mixture of advocaat, rum, mulled wine, lemonade and several weird spices that was incredibly sweet, incredibly potent, and went down better than a hot air balloon that has been spiked by a pterodactyl. There were also four different types of sausage roll, so I’ve eaten enough meat and pastry to last until Easter amd consequently woken up with indigestion. I can’t remember the exact details, but one of them was sage and onion sausagemeat, one was pork, apple and chutney, and another one had some kind of venison in it. Every one a winner, though, and Beryl insisted we kept eating them as nothing that she’d made would last until Christmas and she’d be doing a fresh batch of everything sometime around the 23rd. I waded in with enthusiasm and it all just blended into one wonderful taste in the end. I wouldn’t say it affected my innards, but at one point on the way home Philippa had to get out of the car and walk around because the smells I produced were so toxic.
I love Christmas. 

RC 11-12-17

A long update/look forward

There are a lot of things that go on in my life that I don’t mention in this blog. As I think I’ve said before, I don’t treat this thing as a journal where I can write down my innermost feelings and concerns like a troubled teenager. I use it as a place where I can vent my spleen occasionally, try and oil my creative cogs and share a few funny thoughts with you in an attempt to pass our shared time on this planet more enjoyably. So things happen that you don’t get to hear about as I’m too busy moaning about people I’ve encountered at work or boring you with whatever my latest obsession might be. But a change is coming soon and I thought it might be prudent to update you.  Philippa - for the first time in her adult life - is changing jobs! You may remember that when we first ventured over the border into Suffolk she was determined to find something closer to home, as the drive back up into deepest Norfolk every day was extending her work hours considerably. It didn’t happen quite as soon as planned, however, and she just kind of fell into the routine and got on with it. Then Tom (her boss) was talking about the possibility of her running a new shop for him, so it was worth hanging around for a bit just in case that materialised, and then we hit that point where we wanted to have children. Obviously, having worked there for a while, Philippa would be entitled to decent maternity rights and so it made sense for her to stay there until Junior was at school. Unfortunately, the conception thing hasn’t gone quite as well as we’d hoped. I know I haven’t mentioned it much here, but I assure you it hasn’t been for the want of trying, and it hasn’t been without its emotional difficulties and disappointments. Philippa hit a real low point in September time after yet another failed pregnancy test and was just about ready to give up on the patter of tiny Chesworths ever happening.  So we decided to take a break from it all and stop pressuring the whole thing and just get on with our lives for a while. And in a rare moment of husbandly support and caring I suggested she think about changing jobs. Being stuck in that same old family business rut wasn’t doing her any good, and if my own strange career path has taught me anything, it’s that it’s better to take a risk and take a jump rather than just languish in the same old spot. You never know where your bravery might lead you. She tearfully agreed and seemed mightily relieved to have heard me bring it up.
It’s funny how things can fall into place sometimes. At the end of that week she had an appointment with our GP, and as she sat in the waiting room, the practice manager put up a sign advertising a full-time position on the reception desk. To cut the story short, she got the job and starts in the New Year. It’s less money than she’s been on  for a while, but who cares? It also means less travel, more time off and a complete absence of weekend work! I didn’t mention it before as I know members of her family and people she works with read my blog sometimes (I know this because they have taken delight in the past in dropping me in it with Philippa for things they’ve seen that I’ve written) and we didn’t want them to know. But it’s all out in the open now - she’s working her notice and will finish on the 30th December. I pity the poor girl who takes over from her - just in time for the New Year sales - but that’s not our problem. All I know is that Philippa is completely changed since she took the plunge. She has more energy, she’s sleeping better, she smiles more often and she doesn’t snap at me so much. It’s all good. 

RC 8-12-17

Up it

To counteract my slight moan yesterday, here is a list of things I am really happy about, really optimistic about and really looking forward to:

People are cheering up a bit now it’s nearly Christmas.
The house we live in is slowly becoming ours.
Philippa is still with me, after two years of marriage!
My superiors at work have given us a glowing report for our efforts over this year (especially since going to 24-hour opening) so hopefully they’ll leave me alone to get on with it in 2018 instead of frequently coming down to stick their noses in.
We’re having a belated Christmas party in the New Year, when Sophie is off work and can come and stay.
There’s a Winter Olympics on the way.
There’s a FIFA World Cup next Summer, so I’ll be able to sell loads of patriotic tat to van drivers, and will sell a years worth of Carling every time there’s a match involving England.

RC 7-12-17

Flagging

I’ve hit a bit of a wall as far as Christmas plans go. Having been forced to think about it since September at work I’ve reached the stage now where I’m sick of the whole thing and I want it to be January…
I don’t like thinking too far ahead, that’s the trouble. I like to take each day as it comes and make the best of it and then move onto the next one, and that’s hard to do in December because everyone you talk to is talking about Christmas, and every advert you see and hear is all about gearing up for the 25th. I’ve fallen into the trap of buying into the crap and now I’m in a bit of a tired tizz. 
Work has affected our plans somewhat as well, as Philippa will be working Boxing Day. They’re doing an extra big super sale thing and she has to be there to help with all the credit agreements, or something. It’s a pain and it limits our time together, but we’ve had a good run of it in the past few years, so we’re not moaning. 
That’s something I’d like to underline in regards to this whole blog post actually - I’M NOT MOANING. I’m still being positive and I’m still looking forward to it all, I just think I’ve had it in my head for two months already and it just all goes on too long. I’d like to find a little island somewhere that I can sit on for 24 hours and have a bit of a break. But I can’t, so I have to get on with it.

RC 6-12-17

The weird fragility of the human eye

This is getting close to an epidemic. Hot on the heels of the man who snapped his arm doing washing, we have a female part-time till-jockey who damaged her eye falling over a domino run. 
Rosetta is a lovely lady in her sixties, of quite large girth, and she’s always been a bit clumsy. Apparently she popped in to see her daughter and grandson on the way home from work, strode into the kitchen and at the last second spotted the impressive on-the-floor construction little Jasper had spent the afternoon compiling. In trying not to break it she fell sideways, knocking her shoulder hard against the table and then - according to Raphael in the canteen who was relaying the story - “she felt a pop in her left eye and noticed she could only see cobwebs.“
Her daughter took her to the doctor, who sent her to A+E, and six hours or so later she learnt she’d managed to detach the retina in her eye! It’s not as uncommon as you might think, although it’s certainly not something I’ve heard of before. Once it’s happened, it can only be repaired surgically and if you don’t get it done you lose the sight in your eye! So now she’s sitting at home with an eye patch and waiting for an operation on Friday. Poor old love.
So that’s two members of staff I’ve heard about in two days. Either someone’s placed a curse on the supermarket or people are trying to get time off before Christmas. 

RC 5-12-17

Freak/accident

There’s a guy who works in the supermarket who broke his wrist getting stuff out of his tumble dryer. I’m not kidding. He was trying to be helpful around the house but isn’t used to dealing with laundry. He could only see one of his favourite socks fall into the basket, so he stuck his hand into the drum and gave it a spin to see if there was a lonely sock clinging to the side somewhere. As you may know, those things build up momentum and spin on their own, and as he gave it a good shove, he caught his fingers on one of the ridges that bring the ‘tumble’ effect to the ‘dryer.’ He didn’t move them out of the way in time so the drum took them with it and it bent his hand backwards and cracked a bone in his wrist. Bless him. 
He plays in goal for a local Sunday football team too. So he’s off work for a couple of weeks and can’t play sport for a couple of months just because he tried to dry his socks. Fate is a curious beast, is it not?
And I’m aware that I am recounting a possibly depressing story in the month when I promised to remain upbeat. So to end on a positive note - at least it didn’t happen to me!

RC 4-12-17

Too much too soon?

Welcome to the month containing Christmas!!
I have had a productive day full of decorating the walls at work, surfing the internet for presents and ‘test sampling’ various festive snacks and confectionery. Mince pie flavour peanuts may sound repulsive, but as far as merging Yuletide favourites together into an unpleasant blend goes, it could have been worse. There’s a new sparkling wine laced with infusions of cranberries and nutmeg that is so sweet it nearly makes your eyes fall out. It’s pricey and it tastes very false. Like a carbonated glass of aspartame. Still - we got a bottle as a freebie so no complaints from me.  
Call me over-Christmassed already, but three weeks from today will be Christmas Eve. So there…  

RC 3-12-17

Dec-ision

I have decided upon a challenge/mission to see me through to the end of the year. Throughout December, I will post only positive, amusing, uplifting phrases and musings. I’ve been very negative lately, and I know that negativity is a state of mind that can turn into a habit that is hard to break out of, and I fear I may have stepped over that line this month. Too much moaning, too much time in the pity pit, too much time looking at the weather forecast instead of looking at the beautiful skies.
No more.
I hereby pledge to surf a fun wave of cheeriness from here until 2018.
You have my word…

RC 30-11-17

Inviting trouble...

So Jane Austen has replaced Winston Churchill on the ten pound note. 
I’m all for equality but shouldn’t it be judged on equality of achievement?
Churchill made us a First World power and saved Europe from the scourge of Nazism.
Austen wrote some crap books.
No contest.
I know there are feminist arguments in favour of the change but surely “It’s time we had a woman” can’t be the only criteria considered?
One thing to be thankful for, I guess. At least it isn’t Princess Di. 

RC 29-11-17

J'accuse

Is it my imagination or has every establishment that sells fizzy drinks ‘on tap’ decided to cut down on the gas?
My non-alcoholic tipple of choice is always Pepsi. (I’ll only succumb to Coke if there is no other option available) In the last couple of weeks I have had a glass in at least three separate locations and every time it was like drinking tap water that had been coloured dark brown and flavoured slightly with Pepsi. It’s happening everywhere and it’s all about saving money. It’s putting profit before customer service and because we’re British we just take it, so they’ll keep on doing it. I don’t know where it started but it’s spread around the county like something supernatural from an M.Night Shyamalan film and it needs to stop now. I imagine it started innocently enough - the CO2 was running low at a village pub and no-one had noticed - but once they got away with it they obviously contacted everyone else in the Drinking Establishment Cabal and said “Psst. Brothers….. hear me now. You know that feckin’ awful pasty syrup shit that we buy on bulk and then mix up live through a multi-purpose hand-held serving gun that we never bother cleaning? Well you can save yourselves a few more pence if you just don’t bother to use gas. Go through the motions with the siphon thing but just don’t have it hooked to a canister. It’ll be flatter than a Norfolk ironing-board but who cares? This is England, so no-one will complain. They’ll drink the shit we serve them without even blinking. They might even bend over and grab their ankles in front of us, so used are they to allowing Big Business to rim them in the Snakehole on a daily basis. Capitalists Unite!!”
I imagine that’s exactly how it happened.
Bastards.

RC 28-11-17

P.S. My employers will thank me for this bit - the way to avoid this crappy flatness is to buy all your Coke and/or Pepsi in can or bottle form, for example from your local supermarket garage…

Thanks Mr Williams

My mood seems to have plummeted quicker than the temperature outside. 
Driving home in darkness does drag me down. But as Philippa pointed out to me a few minutes ago - ‘give it another month and the days will start getting longer again.’ Time does seem to be whizzing past quicker than a comet with a promise. I remember thinking ‘Hell, it’s only 6 weeks til Christmas’ and that was 2 weeks ago, so now 2 more weeks have passed so we’re 2 weeks closer to Christmas, so it’s now only 4 weeks away. 
I hope my old GCSE maths teacher is reading this, he’d be so proud.
Things aren’t so bad really. It’s just turned BLOODY cold and for some reason that makes it seem even darker even earlier. Plus, every other customer we face is panic-buying shovels and corned beef because they saw in the Daily Express that there MIGHT be a bit of sleet this Thursday. So the general atmosphere from the general public is one of pissed-off Winter selfishness. 
One cheery note  - I found myself the perfect advent calendar and it’s sitting on the kitchen shelf just waiting for Friday to arrive. It’s a Limited Edition Coconut Lovers Special - so every morning I’ll open a door and get a snack size Bounty to start my day with.
Happy times, after all. 

RC 27-11-17

Grooves and Flicks

Inspired by my last blog, here’s five more movie/song tie-ins (that I’ve completely invented):

John Lennon’s “Woman” was written about Meryl Streep’s character in “Out Of Africa.”
Jack White was inspired to write “Seven Nation Army” after falling asleep during a re-run of “The Chronicles Of Riddick.”
The Kris Kristofferson film “Convoy” took it’s story from a hit country record of the 70s - (“9 to 5” by Dolly Parton.)
The Yuletide Mud classic “Lonely This Christmas” was written as a DVD extra bonus track for the Cliff Richard film “Summer Holiday.” 
Holst wrote ‘The Planets’ after a torrid two-week affair with Mozart. Each part of the suite relates to a certain night they spent together, and a certain position they utilised. That has nothing to do with movies, I admit, but it could have led to an interesting version of ‘Amadeus.’ 

RC 25-11-17

Two mighty productions (& too many parentheses)

A true fact I discovered this weekend. (At least - I think I discovered it this weekend. I’ve had so many doubts about my memory recently that I may have discovered this years ago and then forgotten it since.)  
Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight” (which is one of my favourite slow songs,) was originally a song about rock-and-roll music. Bob re-wrote the lyrics after watching a scene in “The Sting” (which is one of my favourite films.)
Love it. 

RC 22-11-17

Buuuusssssyyyyy

Is it Christmas Eve already? I was over at the store this afternoon and the bloody aisles were packed. Are people really starting to stock up on supplies for the festive period? Maybe they think we put things out cheaper now and then hike the prices up just before Christmas week. Maybe we do, but if so you’re not beating the system by buying early - you’re falling into our trap and giving us money now, and giving us time to come up with other ways to suck your wallets dry in December.
That’s what you need to remember about supermarkets - we’re bastards, and we’ll get you any way we can.

On a less depressing, less corporate-brainwashing-inspired note, I have been LOVING the bright, still mornings and the bright, beautiful late afternoons. This has been an awesome month for colourful sunsets. 

RC 21-11-17

Two months today is my birthday

Christmas shopping seems to have begun in abundance. The main car park for the supermarket was twice as full as it normally is on a Monday and several of them swung in our way for re-fuelling. They should have done it on Friday really, as the prices shot up again this morning, especially on diesel. This means I may be able to report a record intake for a Monday in November, but I’ve had to deal with more unhappy customers than usual. There is a wide-reaching breed of person who refuse to accept that fuel prices fluctuate and that it’s not me personally that sits there with a calculator deciding how high to make the cost of their weekly fill-up. I have to stand there and listen to Middle-Aged Mrs Windbag telling me how little Tarquin won’t get the item at number 17 on his Christmas list because I’ve dumped 5p a litre on petrol, and I’m not allowed to scream “Stop spoiling him or buy a f**king bike, then” or I’d be fired.  
To cheer myself up I’ve had a good look at some potential advent calendars. I’m a bit late ordering this year and I want to try something different, but I’m not sure where to go or what to look for. I might see about making one myself. I have found a website that does next-day delivery on some nicely-decorated boxy ones that you fill up yourself with treats of your own choice that you know you will definitely like. Hmmm - how about this for an idea - we get two, and Philippa and I have to fill them up for each other? That way we know we’ll get stuff we like, but it’ll still be a surprise each morning. That sounds wonderful, and rather sweet, really. I shall run it by her later, and in the meantime I shall order two to be delivered so she won’t be able to say no.

RC 20-11-17

Words, man

My challenge didn’t quite go as planned today. I set aside the whole morning and I sat down with a copy of the periodic table and a blank sheet of paper, but then at quarter past one this afternoon I realised a) I’d forgotten to have any lunch, and b) I’d forsaken the idea of a readable paragraph in favour of coming up with the longest word possible. CAMOUFLAGES is still the record, but I’ve found some other interesting 10 and 11 letter words creatable using the element symbols. But if I want to turn this effort into an actual, sensible blog posting then obviously I’d need to use smaller words as well, otherwise it would just be a long list of long words strung together, and you can get that by playing the classic pen-and-paper game ’Stairway.’
No - I suspect you would expect more from me than that, and I shall strive to deliver….

RC 19-11-17

Rerun Rory

Am I starting to repeat myself? I sat here yesterday thinking my Periodic Table Poetry idea might be original, but now I’m not convinced that I haven’t thought of it before. Not only that - I think I may have BLOGGED about it before, but then never followed it up.  
But if I have - so what? Doesn’t every great writer borrow from their own back catalogue? Shakespeare did it. Charles Dickens did it. Enid Blyton used to write a book a week, you’re not telling me she didn’t stumble through the same plot points every month or so.  Agatha Christie churned out the same old shit every year and just substituted Poirot for Marple every now and then. Hell, even The Bible uses the word ‘Amen’ over and over, and that’s the biggest selling book of all time, so give me a break, bitches. 

RC 18-11-17

Cymbals and Symbols

Philippa is out for ‘quiet drinks’ with some friends in Norfolk, so I have just enjoyed a great three-hour session on the drums. Now I am blogging while waiting for some pasta to cook before a late bolognaise supper, during which I shall watch something suitably action-packed courtesy of Netflix. 

Still 9 minutes to go on that spaghetti….

Been a week of quite short messages from me. Maybe part of me thinks that dropping 750 words in one day (see Nov 7th) means I’m allowed to be a bit lax with the word count for a while. I don’t know. My mind is a complicated thing and I can’t pretend to know why it thinks the things it does. I would like to point out though that oftentimes the blogs that are shorter are the ones that I spend more time writing. However… having said that, I need to get back to writing longer blog postings, so I’ve thought of a new challenge to work on. I want to write a blog post that only uses words that can be made using the symbols from the Periodic Table of The Elements. For example - the word “NEWSPAPERS” uses Neon (Ne), Tungsten (W), Sulphur (S), Protactinium (Pa), Phosphorous (P), Erbium (Er) and then Sulphur again to make it plural (a bit cheaty, I know, but needs must, etc..) The longest one I’ve found so far is CAMOUFLAGES, which uses EIGHT different elements and is ELEVEN letters long. 

Not sure how I’ll get those into a coherent blog post, but I can give it a go. 

RC 17-11-17

New saying invented, perhaps

Shag my boots. It’s the second half of November already! I feel the month is flying by without me getting a chance to pause and enjoy the good parts of it. I can only hope the months in the early part of next year fly by just as quickly, but I bet they won’t. The second part of Winter, the part after my birthday, is always much harder for me, and it seems to last longer each year. Damn February. It’s my nemesis. It sits upon the calendar to taunt me and drag me down and to make me start thinking about it three months before it gets here.
I’m weird, aren’t I?

RC 16-11-17

Pearls of Wisdom, perhaps

Here’s a realisation from my working life:

Nothing upsets a convertible owner more than people NOT looking at them while they’re driving…

And I found this written in a notebook, so I may have used it in a blog already. But just in case I haven’t:

“I’ve realised…. In times of unease…. Men throw themselves into work, Women throw themselves into bed.”

RC 15-11-17

6 weeks today will be Boxing Day

LISTS - for no other reason than I’m too lazy to write a proper blog, and I’m so far ahead with paperwork at work that I had some spare time on my hands today so filled it with some list-writing.
[just as a little aside, do we still call it ‘paperwork’ when it’s all done electronically?]

MY FIVE FAVOURITE CHRISTMAS EATINGS

Christmas Pudding
Mince Pies
Shortbread
Cashew Nuts with Raisins (thank you, Holland and Barrett)
Cold turkey, stuffing and mayonnaise sandwiches

MY FOUR FAVOURITE TOM HANKS FILMS

Bridge of Spies
The Green Mile
Toy Story 3
Splash

MY THREE FAVOURITE DRINKS (Nov ‘17 edition)

Earl Grey Rooibos Tea
Gingerbread latte  
Mackeson’s Stout

MY TWO FAVOURITE NAMES FOR RABBITS

Thumper
Fluffkins

MY FAVOURITE HOUR OF THE DAY

5 - 6 pm

RC 14-11-17

Streams of sub-consciousness

It’s our wedding anniversary on Christmas Eve. 
I don’t know what to do about it really. Do we go away for it or do we settle down for a Christmas at home? Those Above Me have determined horrendous opening hours for the garage over the Christmas and New Year week but thankfully my team are all very co-operative and of different lifestyle persuasions so I’ve been able to find a way to man everything without anyone being unduly shafted and thereby pissed off.  Does that mean I can steal a few days away or is that setting a bad example? 
It’s all very confusing.

On a much less pressing but nicely distracting note, I am getting dangerously close to considering the possibility that I might actually reach the milestone of 2000 postings on this blog! If it looks like I’ll get there, I might plan a nice party to celebrate, which might or might not involve inviting regular readers of said blog to join me for a shindig at a yet-to-be-determined location.
Keep on coming back for more info…..

RC 13-11-17

Lonely poppies

Our village has a little war memorial, remembering people who gave their lives 1914-18 and 1939-45, and commemorating the existence of a nearby USAF air base during the Second World War. Every year they do a little open-air service to mark Remembrance Sunday, so Philippa and I like to dress up and go along and pay our respects. There were only a few people who bothered showing up today. It was very quiet indeed. I don’t know whether this is the modern world - less people care about the past or what was given by those before us, or whether it is just a sign that those of the older generation are dying off now. They’re not going to turn up if they’re not physically able to. Or maybe there was just a bigger event going on somewhere else that more of the locals went to. To be fair, it’s not a huge village anymore so there aren’t many of us who live here, so maybe a dozen or so is the best that can be expected.
Anyway, we turned up so we did our bit, and it’s none of my business what other people choose to do with their Sunday mornings. But I felt I should mention it.

RC 12-11-17

Cinemasterpiece

We went to see “Murder on the Orient Express” today (the Kenneth Branagh version) 
I love the book, and the 1974 film version with Albert Finney is one of my all-time favourites, so it’s fair to say I approached the viewing with a certain amount of trepidation, but I LOVED IT!
My only regret is that I know the story so well that there were very few surprises, even allowing for the character changes and extra plot twists they’ve put in. But nevertheless it was probably the best film I’ve seen all year. If you’re going into it with absolutely no prior knowledge then you’re in for a real treat and I envy you. 

RC 11-11-17

I'm lazy, so here's some haiku

I thought you might not have had enough poetry from me for one week, so here’s some Fri-ku. 

Wintry winds today
Colder than it’s been all week
November pains me

A whole weekend off
My wife and I shall snuggle
And plan for Christmas

I would like to buy
Suffolk’s biggest Christmas tree
And force it indoors

The best Christmas tale
Is “It’s A Wonderful Life”
Or “Christmas Carol”

My plan this evening
Was not for Christmas haiku 
But it has happened

RC 10-11-17

Angst, and answers

It is getting frighteningly close to Christmas. We have made no plans, we have bought no presents, and I am starting to have my annual seven-weeks-beforehand panic, where I convince myself we will not be ready in time and the lives of everyone who knows me will be ruined as a result. 
So what am I going to do about it?
Bury the worries beneath an onslaught of red wine, Wii gaming and drumming and hope that when I wake up tomorrow I’ll either feel completely differently about it or been transported back in time a month… 

RC 9-11-17

Records

I think I may have blown my record for “Most Words In A Single Blog Posting” out of the window yesterday. I haven’t counted them, but there seemed to be lots, and I can’t remember ever doing a longer posting in my many years as a blogger. I may be very wrong, of course. I seem to have a small memory of writing something very long to coincide with my 1000th posting. Did I do a thousand words to celebrate the thousandth? I’m not sure now, and I make a point of not looking back at past writings so I’ll never know. I have a curious feeling that if I were to look back and re-read past entries, I would see the truth about myself in word form and I would no longer be able to convince myself that my musings are the stuff of literary genius. So I leave well enough alone. I live in my little bubble of contentment and self-deception, where I have a multitude of dedicated followers in every known country in the world, whose very lives revolve around waiting to see my poetic perfection published in a post, or my earth-shattering philosophical wonderments placed, via my keyboard, upon their screens. I am a God here, and I am happy. So leave me be….

RC 8-11-17

An Ode

A long time ago, within this blogsphere, I expressed my admiration for some of Lewis Carroll’s long-form poetry, and expressed an interest in writing a nonsense epic poem of my own. I even knew what I wanted it to be about, and what I wanted it to be based on. It would be a pastiche of, and homage to, ‘The Hunting Of The Snark‘ and would tell a tale of where I think we are and where I think we’re going.
It’s taken me about four years longer than I had hoped, but I think I am now ready to share it with you.
Ladies and gentlemen: THE SHUNTING OF THE ARK….

The Shunting of The Ark


“I’m going to make it rain!” God said
“It’s high time that man became wet.
So they’d better get ready, and cover their head
With the driest hat they can get”

You see, God had toiled when making the Earth
And all Man had done was be lazy
He’d plundered the planet and wasted it’s worth
Behaviour that drove our God crazy

He’d sat up in Heaven, maintaining his silence
Berating himself for his folly
While down below Man unleashed warfare and violence
And “Sesame Street” and “Where’s Wally?”

He’d given Man free will; the urges to search 
Things to be worshipped, indeed
But on Sundays, instead of being thankful in church
Man just got drunk and spilt all his seed

Instead of the wafer - vodka he took
Instead of Communion; crimes
facebook he turned to, and then The Good Book
(Not The Bible, but Radio Times)

Religion came second to TV and cars
Less children knew God than knew Shrek
The World became run not by priests, but by ‘stars’
It was Surmon by Ant, and by Dec

God used to be quite a generous chap
He used to be peaceful and calm
But now he was angry, he’d had a bum rap
And he wanted to cause Man harm

So he rolled out some thunder and seeded a cloud,
made the skyline imposing and frightening
“I’m making a storm of which Zeus would be proud!”
He said as he sharpened his lightning

“Man better get ready to run for the Hills
He’d better start packing his bags.
I’m wiping out Prozac and dietary pills
I’m seeing off dealers and slags

It’s time to take back what is rightfully mine
I’m wiping the slate clean on Earth
I’m passing Man’s place further on down the line
To a creature who’ll realise it’s worth”

He tried to be fair; to give Man a last chance
So he sent him some signs of his plan
But the signals were lost in the desperate dance
Of “We’ll take what we like - coz we can!” 

If God needed his children to know how he felt
He should have uploaded online
With the millions of messages (badly misspelt) 
He might have got noticed on Vine

But Man did not heed the warning that came
He was sure everything was okay
And he carried on living and doing the same
And ignored the impending Dark Day

Man did as he did, as he always had done
He rode the most selfish of waves
Putting ‘soul’ behind ‘stuff‘, putting ‘faith’ behind ‘fun’ 
Sending hope and love into their graves

The forests kept falling, the fish disappeared
Man continued to rob the World blind
And the God that had made him, the God he once feared
Was the very last thing on his mind

So when the flood came he knew not what to do
He knew not that he reaped as he sowed
And the words of the wisest were proved to be true
As God took back the debt he was owed

He opened His Heavens and let the rain drop
To wash off the stain Man had made
And the People, in panic, all rushed to the shop
Thinking spending would come to their aid

The seas they all rose as the Wise had predicted 
Land became covered in water
God watched from above and felt coldly conflicted 
Lambs he had loved went to slaughter

As the deluge descended the multitudes prayed
Expressing the panic they felt
But the deity drowning them couldn’t be swayed
God turned a blind ear as they knelt

He had reservations but knew He was right
Mans behaviour had become abhorrent
God averted his eyes, turned the sky black as night
And increased the tumult of the torrent

For month after month, the rains pounded the Earth
Til the sins of the sinful were drowned
And the downpour of Death had soon proven its worth 
When no signs of our stain could be found

When the waters receded, the Earth was anew
And the plants and the birds they all thrived
Only Man, with his wonders, had fallen afoul
While the ‘lesser of beings’ survived

The ants in their colonies; bees in their hives
Wasps in their nests, with their Queen
Emerged into Sun and got on with their lives
Thinking not of the way things had been

The last of the Men, scattered hither and yon
One by one into darkness they curled
God smiled at his work, put his sunglasses on
And the insects took over the world 

RC 7-11-17

Tolkeinites suck

I’m never happier than when I’ve been to a fireworks display, but today I am like a ten-year-old on Boxing Day - all glum and down and suffering a bit after the build-up, excitement and ultimate pain of being back in normal life mode.
I had planned to fill you in on another joyous fireworks evening last night, but it was a lot colder than on Saturday and by the time we got in I was bloody frozen and just wanted to have a hot chocolate, then a hot shower, then bed. 
It was a very different event to the previous evening, but no less enjoyable. The display was less ‘spectacular’ but the atmosphere was much friendlier, and the quality of the soup on sale gave them some extra bonus points from me. ‘Spicy Moroccan Vegetable’ is not a flavour I would ever think of putting together myself in soup form, but it was just the job for a chilly outdoor occasion and was so thick they could have called it stew. 
One incident from the night that I have to mention: 
We were standing next to a very nice family of five people, who we spoke to on and off several times. As we approached the end of the fireworks, when the frequency of bangs and the height of the rockets just kept on increasing, one of the younger members of said family remarked - “Every time you think it’s finished, something else happens. It’s a bit like the last ‘Lord of the Rings’ film.”
So I said “Except better, because this is actually worth watching.”
The woman who was standing in front of us, who had paid very little attention to the display itself and had made no effort at interaction with anyone prior to this point, was so offended by my comment that she had to turn around and huff very loudly and pointedly in my face. She held back from actually shouting anything but looked very much like she wanted to ram a large rocket up my arse and then sit me on top of the bonfire. 
One of these days I’ll write a blog about adults who are blindly obsessed with the fantasy genre and why they are worse than religious fanatics, but I can’t be bothered right now. 

6-11-17

Whoop, whoop!!

Just finished Part 1 of our two-way weekend Bonfire/Fireworks Spectacular. (Why are so many fireworks displays called ‘spectaculars’ by the way? Is that an official, recognised, acceptable collective noun - ‘a spectacular of fireworks’?)
Good fun had by all, and a very impressive display. There was a wonderful full moon that poked behind the clouds just as the fire was lit which made it even more amazing. I wasn’t keen on being shoulder-to-shoulder with middle-aged beardies stinking of weed, but that’s the downside of going to a big event like this over a quieter village display like tomorrow - you get more ‘wow’ in the skies, but you get a lot more bodies in the field. Doesn’t matter too much though, does it? Once the rockets are shooting towards the heavens you just spend your time looking up and the world around you disintegrates. That’s how it is for me, anyway. 
Has there ever, in the entire history of mankind, been a more enjoyable invention than the firework?
I have a slight crick in my neck from tilting my head back to look up for 20 minutes, but I got to stand near a bonfire, and I’ve been drinking hot soup outside, so all is well. 

RC 4-11-17

11th month.... 11 lines...

A crap poem (November)

A small blanket of black covers the Earth
My heart sinks lower in my chest
Immunity awaits the onslaught of Winter germs
Tissue sales rocket as handbags and offices get stocked
Smaller ones search skyward for snow
Excitement builds as Yuletime approaches
Shopfronts display a waterfall of Christmas
Poppies adorn proud chests
Large piles of burnable rubbish are checked for hedgehogs, and lit
Cramp becomes a regularity
Chilblains too

2-11-17

Pensive; attentive; reflective

I ripped the Hallowe’en stuff out of the garage by 9.35 am. And I promise that’s the last time I’ll be humbuggy about it this year.

It was a very mild start to November, was it not?

We had a beautiful sunset behind ours this evening. One of those ones I wish I could paint accurately or commit permanently to my memory, or both. It’s amazing how a nice bit of colour above the horizon in the last hour of daylight can lift my spirits. How on Earth people can exist in cities where the only view you get as the Sun goes down is of the same grey buildings around you is beyond me. I get to see the colours in the sky change moment to moment as the nearby fields slip into shadow. I can’t imagine it’s such a heavenly sight watching bland architectural shit-heaps getting slightly darker. 
No wonder so many urbanites take drugs. 

RC 1-11-17

At last, the dark day is done

I’m sorry if my lack of Hallowe’en enthusiasm has affected you in any way. I don’t mean to spoil anyone else’s fun, I just don’t get the hype and I think it’s over-Americanised and an annoyance to people who just want to have a quiet night in at home at the end of October. I respect your freedom to buy into it if you please, and I hope you respect my freedom to moan about it on my blogspace. I would also like to say that if you HAVE been affected by what I’ve written, then I think you probably have deeper problems that you need to look at, because if an insignificant blog written by an underpaid manager in Suffolk is getting to you, you might have issues that need addressing. 
See you in November!

RC 31-10-17

Charming

I know I’m not the most enthusiastic person in the world when it comes to Hallowe’en, but at least I’m not as bad as one of our customers. Two of the mums in the queue were discussing what treats to buy for little trick-or-treaters, and Phil the postman popped up with “don’t ask me - I’m the guy who puts laxatives in chocolates so the little sods have the shits next day at school.” I’m not sure whether to report him to the police or tell him he’s my hero. 

RC 30-10-17

Hurty

I haven’t had a headache for months, but today I have a monster. Typical, isn’t it? The only day in 12 I’m not working and I feel like someone’s filled my brain with nails. I took some paracetamol early, but it’s barely touched the temples. I think I need to look stronger, but I don’t like strong painkillers and I’m pretty sure the 24-hour pharmacist isn’t going to throw me some codeine for a headache, so I might try something different. It’s hard for me to see straight, but I’ve looked online for some ancient and/or alternative remedies to help relieve head pain. To be honest, none of them look attractive. Short of getting Philippa to drill a hole in my head (to let the evil spirits out) or set fire to my hair (nice idea, Arateus of Cappadocia) the only option seems to be something called a Coffee Enema. I don’t know what that is, but I recognise both words and I don’t like the idea of putting them together.  I think I’d rather suffer a crippling migraine for three days than even look up what a Coffee Enema involves. 

RC 29-10-17

Clocking on, counting down

How have I ended up working another Saturday morning? It’s bad enough being here during the week; it’s extra painful when I’m sitting here knowing that Philippa is curled up at home with her lovely warm body in a lovely warm bed. 
Oh well - this time next week I’ll have Hallowe’en behind me and will be looking forward to two fireworks displays in two days. Yeah - you heard me - TWO of them. One is a big display at a Suffolk racecourse, one is an intimate bonfire-and-bangers party at a neighbouring village. Both will be wonderful, I am sure.  The first week of November for me is like the week before Christmas for little children. Exciting, full of anticipation, full of promise. But it’s better for me, coz I’m not reliant on other people buying me presents to make it all worthwhile, and I get to drink alcohol while enjoying it. Take that, kiddiwinks. 

RC 28-10-17

First mention of Christmas

Something that crossed my mind this morning, as I was putting through an order for Christmas selection boxes. People always wonder about Father Christmas in the following ways - 
“How does he know who’s been naughty or nice?”
“How does he fit down the chimney?”
“How does he get to every child around the world in just one night?”
Why doesn’t anyone ever ask this one:
“How does a man who is obviously morbidly obese survive a 24-hour period of intense stress and physical exercise without dying of a massive coronary somewhere over the Atlantic?”

RC 27-10-17

Smile....

I’ve been a bit moany again in the past few days, so here’s a joke to lighten the mood of this blog:

When do piglets go trick-or-treating?

Halloweeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!!!

RC 26-10-17

die-cot-oh-me

We are heading into a strange paradoxical time for me. A week of weird conflicts. We are approaching one of my most hated dates of the year, hotly followed by one of my favourites. Hallowe’en is nigh, with Bonfire Night hot on its heels. I love fireworks and hot soup outside; I hate trick-or-treating and apple bobbing. So for every moment I have a rush of excitement about bonfires, I get a rush of dread about ghost costumes. I don’t like the fact that I have a great event to look forward to, but a huge stumbling block to scramble over first. It’s a bit like having an operation scheduled two weeks before Christmas. 
So maybe, I am wondering, we should separate these two events and place them at different times of the year? I know, yes, technically speaking, Hallowe’en has to be on October 31st, and Guy Fawkes night has to be November 5th, but I say Screw History and let’s put one in November and one in March. We celebrate Christmas on December 25th, despite almost everyone of any knowledge saying Jesus was born in September, so why can’t other holidays be moved too? Do I need to cite Easter as an example? Do I? I hope not, because it’s messed up beyond comment when you think about it.
SO…. just for me, if no-one else…. let’s move Hallowe’en to March 5th. It’ll still be dark enough at night for little scamps to go out dressed up, and it’ll break up this over-populated part of the year nicely. Post-Christmas, you could have my birthday to look ahead to, then Valentines Day, then straight into preparations for Hallowe’en. Wouldn’t that be better for everyone?
Especially me. I wouldn’t have to spend half of October hiding Christmas stock somewhere while bringing out stupid novelty ‘spook’ treats, and then every March I could have a nice Spring holiday abroad and avoid the fricking thing entirely. 

RC 25-10-17

Another anti-technology rant

Our minds are the greatest gift we have and people seem to be using them less and less. I mention this because one of the girls at work has asked if she can carve a few pumpkins to put on the counter. She’s an arts student and wants to do it as a little project and a chance to show off her skills. If people like them and want to reward her, they can drop some money in a Hallowe’en bucket and we’ll donate it to a local charity. I think it’s a great idea, but when I asked her what sort of designs she had in mind, she didn’t bring out a sketch pad, she got her phone out to show me some stuff on Pinterest. Everything she wanted to do would be a copy of something done by someone else and posted online. I asked her if she fancied doing something original for us. I asked her ‘if I gave you free rein to do whatever the Hell you wanted, what would you come up with?’ and she couldn’t answer me. She literally has no ideas of her own.
And call me a boring old fart, a technophobe, a Luddite, a grumpy git or any other phrase of your choosing, but I think this is symbolic of a wider modern world problem. We’re wasting our most valuable assets by lazily turning to the internet for inspiration. 
We’ve become obsessed with seeing what other people are doing instead of concentrating on finding our own path. We’re too busy watching other peoples lives instead of learning to live our own. It’s getting worse, and it’s getting more widespread, and it’s affecting more and more people without them realising it. 
So, please, don’t go onto Pinterest to find ideas for how to decorate a pumpkin. That’s what God gave us imaginations for. 

RC 24-10-17

Back to basics with a bump

Our entire computer system went down at work today. We lost everything. Tills, cameras, desktops. Even the pumps were affected as they’re run by software that links them to the mainframe in the garage. (Do I sound like I know what I’m talking about? Because I don’t…) Monday morning is always very busy for us early on as we get loads of people wanting to ‘fill up for the week’ on their way to work, so the forecourt rapidly descended into chaos. This wouldn’t have happened a couple of years ago, but since our big refit for the overnight shift inclusion everything is reliant on everything else and so if one cog somewhere goes kaputski the whole system goes to shit. And there’s nothing we can do about it. It doesn’t matter how loudly you shout at me, Mr. Almeira Driver With The Silly Hat, I can’t bypass anything or ‘take cash and write it up later’ because if it isn’t done on the touch screens in the filling station it’ll register as a non-payment and automatically send your details to the police. 
Although it wouldn’t have this morning, as the security stuff is all run by, guess what?, the same computer that sorts everything else.
As the world becomes more automated and mechanised the more it is prone to a meltdown. 
So after several confrontations with customers, several attempted phone calls to senior management who refuse to start work before 9am on a Monday, and several begging messages sent to the technical support people, we were finally sorted by lunchtime and up and running normally all afternoon. My blood pressure was probably 230 over 100, my pulse rate was probably 200 beats a minute, and I’ve probably shaved five years off my life, but we made it through somehow and the only damage is the loss of a few thousand pounds in revenue, which will look bad in my monthly figures but doesn’t really affect me personally. It’s not as if they’ll dock my wages to cover the shortfall. They’ll just have some shitty pointless internal investigation that will come to some shatteringly impressive conclusion like “Computers sometimes go bad” and write yet another new policy procedure for what we should do if it happens again.
Which it probably will, let’s be honest. 

RC 23-10-17

Contrast in the calendar (a poem)

Sunday lunch in a nice warm pub
A glass of wine and fulsome grub
A nice clean glass, a comfy chair 
Companions all with news to share
Waiting staff who smile and serve
Who get the tips they all deserve
A happy scene, a welcome place
A friendly smile on every face

Friday night; a different scene
Rowdy yobs and jokes obscene
Insulted as you wander in
Casual racism, tattooed skin 
“Immigrants man, they should all be throttled”
Punches are thrown, a waiter gets bottled
A dirty scene, a sordid place
A drunken scowl on every face

RC 22-10-17

Satur-ku?

I still write haiku
But never on a Friday
Funny how things change

Wintry weather falls
Dampness creeps into our world
And life is blacker

I am not sure why
But I seem to be straddled
With insomnia

North Korean War
Was unstoppable, they said
Newscasting bollocks

Time is deceptive
October is whizzing by
Quicker than August

Uninterested
Or is the correct usage
Disinterested?

‘The Girl On The Train’
A novel about murder?
Or a travel guide?

In the world of odes
Some haiku is meaningful
But mine is just trite

I will always post
An odd number of haiku
It’s just a habit

RC 21-10-17