Saturday PM

I made the fatal mistake of trusting the BBC weather forecast - we were due storms, winds, rain and thunder - but nothing happened, it's actually been quite a nice day, but instead I chose to stay at home and do things that I'd been putting off for months, most of which I've only half tackled - cleaning the kitchen can come later.

The most interesting thing that's happened recently is finding a folded piece of typewritten foolscap in an old copy of 'RAF News / 1942' - which appears to be a secret memo discussing a rumoured new German bomber with some estimated specifications and sketch descriptions - it was a Heinkel 274, and most of the approximations are roughly right. An odd thing to find - and an even stranger thing to lose - probably could have ended up being shot if if was found in the wrong hands.

There is an interesting post over on The Age Of Uncertainty - I've had to tackle the problem of people reading this blog and recognising themselves, or worse. Anyone remember the time I got a call from the head of public relations at Everest Double Glazing telling me they had sacked two people because of something I'd accidentally heard during a sales call and reported here? If you remember that - you may also remember the time I accidentally went to a job interview by mistake and they threatened to call the police if I didn't leave - that post ended up on a couple of blogs with big readerships, the agency closed down shortly afterwards - although I doubt I can accept credit for that. As I now know that many of my friends, family and people I have worked with at some point have dipped in here occasionally - I suppose that after about 7 years you tend to get about... I've learned the hard way to be very careful, very edited and always makes sure that I tell the truth. I used to regularly do an 'overheard in Hastings' spot - people really do say the funniest things - but am more careful now, partly because I fear someone punching me in the supermarket - and partly because someone I know once decided to tell me that I was a snob and looked down on people, mocking them on here - which really offended me at the time and isn't true at all - I later came to realise that they are just one of those people who cannot say anything to me without it being an underhand mocking criticism (my house - "obviously a work in progress" - my studio - "much smaller than I expected" my work "not quite how I would have done it myself, of course" - etc). I once had both my siblings call me unexpectedly in the space of a few days for no particular reason - my brother later told me that he's been reading this blog in chunks and had accidentally come across a particularly depressing period of me moaning about money, work and the house and was worried I was depressed. I wasn't - but obviously I was deeply touched that he'd felt the need to call.

A big part of this blog is as a diary for myself - I'm really not worried if I don't have any 'hits' - and there have been quite long periods when I get no hits at all for months - and then suddenly pick up again to absurd numbers - usually when I've been mentioned somewhere else - so there is really no point in my embellishing or romanticising anything, although the temptation is overwhelming sometimes, I often meet people who are such grotesque characters that it's hard not to attribute comic Dickensian features. Another part is simply to practice writing every day - something that fellow dyslexics will understand. I'm a lot better and more confident in writing now than I was a few years ago, so that's OK.

As an aside to the above - I was in the local COOP earlier and a middle class woman in her 30's was complaining loudly that there was no Fresh Watercress... it's the beginning of the end. I really don't care if she reads this and recognises herself, she was an idiot.

Earlier today - I was in the loft, looking for more things to throw away, I had the radio on - down on the landing, and it was too much bother to climb down the ladder and turn it off. I had to suffer 'Question Time'. The sun was beating down on the roof and the heat was almost unbearable anyway, listening to Ron Liddle was the final straw - nearly had to go to bed for an hour to recover. I listened to Paddy Ashdown on the Today Program yesterday - and as far as I can gauge for myself - he's the one single person who has gotten it 'right' about Gazza. Listening to the news or reading the papers is now the most depressing, distressing thing imaginable and it's not going to get any better, any time soon.

At this very moment, Hastings carnival is in full swing, thousands of people and numerous absurd floats are winding their way through narrow streets to the sound of piped music, drums and people screaming. The pub tills are ringing. By coincidence - it's exactly 50 years to the day that Hastings was the scene of huge crowds of mods and rockers on the beach - and some associated violence - and over in Brighton, just down the coast - the terror that is Brighton Pride is in full swing. When I lived there - everyone I knew in London assumed that I'd be DELIGHTED to have them come and stay for the weekend. I never was.

As I type this the comedian Frankie Boyle is trapped on a broken down train in the middle of nowhere, in the rain, with a very poor WiFi connection and no idea when his journey will be able to resume, he is tweeting his pain to the world.