I need to give some context for this post. There’ve been a couple of strange happenings in the pub; separate incidents where unattended glasses have abruptly left tables. I’ll not go into detail here, but even as a non-believer, I found this unsettling.
Then yesterday morning, after a shower and slightly blind without glasses, I opened the bathroom door to be faced with (in the darkness of the landing) a bright light coming towards me.
The light was moving erratically, side to side, in circles, up and down. I’d never seen anything like it and instinctively took a couple of steps back.
And then I heard a snorting noise; the kind of noise an excited dog makes when they have a new toy in their mouth.
In this case, a dog with a torch.
I’ve no idea where she found it, or how she managed to turn it on. The switch is recessed at the end, so she must have been chewing the new discovery to hit the switch.
One would probably expect a 42-year-old vehicle to have some problems. Our old van las a couple of leaky windows, some surface rust, no heating and an oil leak. For the latter, we tend to carry oil, so we can top-up at regular intervals. Because, wherever the van is parked, large oil patches are usually left behind.
During its service last week, we were informed that we actually have multiple oil leaks, one of which is more serious than the usual T2 leaks.
As a result, our van is currently without its engine. The picture below was taken just a couple of days before surgery.
I’ve always loved making new listening discoveries; there’s nothing better than being overwhelmed by great new music.
Recently, a really nice bloke introduced me to the Hillbilly Moon Explosion. And they’ve since been in my head pretty much non-stop.
Fortunately, I have a large degree of control of Spotify in the pub, so they’re on repeat through the day – at least until one of my colleagues notices.
A good track to start with is My love for evermore (both versions are great).
Today, to vary things a bit, I had around three hours of Prokofiev. Then, when Paul complained, I switched to the Hillbilly Moon Explosion. On repeat, of course. Several hours later, Phil noticed and put some other stuff on.
Several years ago, a mate and I set off on an adventure to Holland. A festival in Holland. Arriving in Calais, we decided to buy cheap beer rather than pay Dutch prices.
This involved a lengthy wait for a wine warehouse to open, since we’d arrived at a ridiculously early hour. Which meant we were pretty tired by the time a warehouse opened.
The choice of wine was impressive. Unfortunately, we couldn’t take glass bottles to the festival and only one brand of beer was on sale for a sensible price.
And that brand was Wanka. It was incredibly cheap and only a month or two out of date. Concerned about our schedule and the possibility of illness due to outdated beer, we left the Wanka beer and continued on our way.
We ended up buying overpriced beer from a Lidl in Belgium, shortly before entering Holland. During our time at the festival, we often talked about Wanka beer, wondering whether we could have avoided the medical tent had we purchased out of date beer.
We did have a great time at the festival, despite having to drink overpriced beer.
Tonight, while in our local corner shop, I spotted some cans of Wanka beer. Except it wasn’t. After telling many people over the years about the Wanka near miss, I now realise that tiredness had led to us mis-reading the can lettering in Calais.