Clearly in the dark about lightships.

Julie was on form today. Seriously; it was one of those days where I was really wishing I had a voice recorder to get all those little bits I couldn't quite hear properly (even though I heard enough to get the gist of it).
Things were slow at work, so I decided to take a half-day. As it turned out, Julie had finished work and arrived home a couple of minutes before me, so, after a spot of lunch and a natter, we thought we would go for a stroll, seeing as how it was such a nice day. Really nice, in fact. Cold, but really nice. Beautiful blue sky with just a few wispy clouds and not much of a breeze. Like I said, though - bloomin' cold.

Following a spot of tea and a bite to eat in one of our favourite cafés, we wandered up the road towards the seafront. After we crossed the road,* the wind was a tad stronger and the chill bit a little more, so we zipped up our coats to the top. While Julie was sorting herself out, I looked out to sea and saw something that made me realise just how clear the weather was.

This is the woman who has lived in Eastbourne all her life. Mind you, it turns out I was a little incorrect in my terminology. Until today, I had no need to research the lightship. Julie had told me it was out there, and that was all I needed to know. However, a search for images of an 'Eastbourne lightship' turned up precious little, and much of that seemed to have very little to do with the sea, let alone big lights that warn shipping of dangerous areas. I mean come on - what the hell was a picture of a cricket pitch doing in that lot? Eventually, I found something that seemed to fit what I had been seeing from a distance, but found it was a lighthouse.
Eh? Oh yes. A renewed search found a plethora of pictures of the lighthouse - here's one such photo.

Yep - that's Eastbourne & Beachy Head in the distance.

As it turns out, the lightship had been retired back in the 1970s and been replaced by this thing.
Anyhow, back to Julie, whose eyes (and memory) had suddenly decided to work. I suppose it helps if you're looking the right way...

My glasses??
Erm... yes, dear.

That's it - have a great weekend, folks!

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Considering it's Friday 13th, we had some brilliant timing every time we needed to cross a road - not once did we even have to pause before crossing a previously busy road.

Partial intelligence, partial calming.

Once upon a time, we used to have a car - only a 1 litre Vauxhall Corsa, but it did the trick. I had it from new and eventually had to give it up for scrap after over 100,000 miles, when the cost of repairing it finally became too much.
>sigh<
I still miss ol' Voxy.

Anyway, enough of the nostalgia.
Well, not quite. Julie has a friend, Sue, who she used to work with. The thing is, Sue had/has a reputation for being a bit dappy. She's forgotten her keys so many times, we've lost count and I can assure you that she has a most ... inventive place to store her false teeth (not a complete set - just a plate with a few which replace some lost in an accident). I can also assure you that not many women can lay claim to have accidentally bitten their own boobs.

Yes, you read that right. don't ask.

Moving swiftly on, there were a few times we were in the position of being able to give Sue a lift to one place or another. On this particular occasion, she wanted to visit a friend in Bexhill [On-Sea], so we offered to drive her there. As you can imagine, having Julie and someone like Sue in the same car should be a sure-fire way of hearing a humdinger of a conversation. I was not disappointed.

As we drove along a straight stretch of road, Sue noted the fact that the road seemed to be a little on the rough side. "Here we go," I thought.
However, Sue caught me out, "perhaps it's a traffic calming measure?" she wondered. "It's a long, straight road and maybe they wanted people to go slower."
"OK," I thought, "that wasn't too bad, after all."
If only Sue had left it at that.

You know you're in trouble when Julie starts howling with laughter at your silliness....

Blackpool has a secret...

If you're British, you will have heard of Blackpool. If nothing else, you will know if for one or two specific reasons; Blackpool Tower and Blackpool Illuminations, both of which can be seen below.

While vaguely reminiscent of Las Vegas (which it so badly would like to be), it is a tad more down-market than that famous city. Mostly, Blackpool is visited by the less affluent members of British society and now has a bit of a reputation for being the holiday destination for chavs and their extended families. Mostly so they can get absolutely hammered and not remember anything of the few days they stay in the town. Needless to say, it's not first on my list for places to go and relax for a long weekend.
There are a few other important details to remember about Blackpool. One is its population. For a seaside town and holiday resort in the North of England, Blackpool is BIG. I mean, while it still is not classed as a city by British standards, the population density is amazing. According to Wikipedia, there are currently 142,900 people living there, in an area which makes it the fourth most densely populated area in England and Wales.
For more information, read the Wiki.

Oh, yes; I nearly forgot. Another important thing to remember is that Blackpool is on the West coast of England. Isn't that right, Julie?

You mean, when did the 4th most densely populated town in England and Wales move itself brick-by-brick 150 miles across The Peak District (popularly known as The Spine of England - for good reason) to be a little closer to Ireland?
Oh, right.

Waterfools, numbers and nuts - oh my!

I't double-dose Monday! However, a word of caution; NSFW if your boss is a humourless, puritanical dick.

A good friend of mine was out and about the other day, enjoying the sun and sea air. Out on the sea was a tug performing a display of its high pressure water jets. Now, there's a very obvious reason for these water jets, but one that seems to have completely passed by one observer...

Apparently, this woman was being entirely serious and seemed to be about to go and suggest to the owner of the tug a function he already performed.
Shortly after this, a young lady decided she wanted an ice-cream and approached a van for such a purpose. Now, I don't know about other countries, but here in Britain, ice cream vans sell a certain popular item; soft ice-cream from a machine doled out onto a bland wafer-type cone and then a Flake is rather unceremoniously  prodded into the top of it all.

This combo is known for some bizarre reason as a '99' (don't ask me why, I have no idea - even the Wiki page isn't too clear on the whole thing). It's a singularly unappetising thing, but immensely popular - and I'll admit to not being immune to its charms on occasion. As was this next lady, who, it would appear, would not be able to list number skills on her CV...

My friend had to walk away at this point. It was either that or laugh in the woman's face...

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Ok, so the free draw is now closed and the names have been gathered. I'm too tired and headachey to do the draw and video for it tonight, so expect it in the next couple of days (if you want to make a late entry to win a copy of the book, then nip in while you can!).

A war of worms and words

Last weekend, as I said in Wednesday's post, Saturday was hot, damn hot. Even bearing in mind I had some slow-cooking sausages in my backpack, we just wanted to get home, where it was cooler inside than out.
Some time later, after a refreshing wash and a drink or few, dusk had fallen and the air was beginning to cool down. Even then, it was still rather pleasant, sitting in our back garden.

When night proper had arrived, we decided to go for a brief stroll up to the sea front. There was very little wind and there was that stillness you get where every slightest noise sounds louder than it should do. That in mind, we were talking in quiet, conversational tones when we reached the prom (promenade, for those confusing the term with a school ball*).
As we reached what is known as The Splash Point, I saw torch light coming from the shoreline.
Julie's explanation for it?

(Translation: they were fishermen looking for fish bait on the freshly revealed sandy part of the beach. This may not be entirely true, as they may also have been looking for razor shells. They're rather tasty, but you don't have much time to get them between the tide retreating and the 'shells digging down to avoid predation and/or drying out.)
It also has to be said that this Gem reminds me so very much of the Spike Jones and his City Slickers 'version' of 'The man on the flying trapeze'. Fancy a listen? Of course you do. Here's the link.

That's it for this week - have a great weekend, folks!


*Although, just to confuse you even more, the term 'Prom' for a high school ball also originates from the full term 'promenade', because the bright young things were being seen to be 'stepping out'. Indeed many of the original dance styles included a promenade.