Got home to add bits and pieces to what I have already written and realised I have put it all together in A4 size and it needs to be in A5 if it is to be turned into a booklet and I think that is the aim.
You think I would have learnt from the past. I originally designed our book Hell in Paradise in A4 format and had to re-do it and now I've made the same mistake again.
They say you learn from your mistakes but obviously not in my case.
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Have I mentioned before that I hate cars? I'm a man but I'm certainly not a car fan (although of course I should be). I find cars tiresome. On Sunday I was just settling down to watch some football on television when the phone rang. The other four fifths had gone off in the car to the other side of the village.
As I've said the phone rang. It was to say the car had a puncture. So I hotfooted it to the car park with a tyre inflation machine in hand. This one is blue and nowhere near as good as the black one I used until it blew up because I tried to blow up hundreds of balloons with it. I saw a similar machine in Sheringham a short while ago and was tempted to buy it but realised I just had to persevere with the blue one.
I managed to get enough air in the tyre to get the car home. By the morning it was flat as a pancake again. I have to point out here that the other four-fifths has made pancakes the last few days as we have run out of cereal. Her pancakes certainly weren't flat.
Phoned the tyre place and managed to get an appointment to have it looked at late afternoon. That meant pumping it up yet again to get me to the tyre place. Turned out we had a screw in the tyre. Another example of wasting a couple of hours on bloody cars.
I have a computer in the car which now keeps telling me that I need to change the oil soon. It doesn't stipulate what is meant by soon. Is that a day or a week or a month or what. But no panic because I have a money draining full service coming up.
Wheel nuts - now that's another thing amongst many imponderables. At the tyre place there's a notice stating that wheel nuts must be left or made visible.
"But I don't have a wheel lock nut" I said to myself. "What is a lock nut. Would I recognise one of it jumped out and hit me? Probably not or should that be probably nut.
Turns out I didn't need one after all. I sat in the reception area for a good 40 minutes and they were able to repair the puncture. There was a steady stream of people coming in wanting to get tyre repairs and talking about tracking and balancing.
"I seem to be wobbling a bit," one woman said. I have no idea what she was referring to.
So let's talk about the puncture to decide whether I'm a glass half full or glass half empty kind of person. I reckon half the time I'm half full and half the time I'm half empty, except when I've had the double stack burger at Weybourne Ship and then I'm definitely fully full.
So when I'm informed of the puncture should I nash my teeth, say "oh woe is me" and curse the puncture Gods for my bad luck or say "it could have been much worse and could have happened on the M25 and not under a mile from home.
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Yesterday I mentioned the afternoon tea we had to mark the 15th birthday of the Star Throwers cancer charity.
The couple I sat next to asked us what our connections with Star Throwers was and so I decided to trawl the internet to find some of my stories or other bits and pieces about the charity.
Having a trail of your past on the internet could be a bad thing. It can also be a good and one day I will write an entire blog based on searching my name. Ok I'll wait until I fancy an ego trip for that one or I might just do it tomorrow, who knows.
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Final thought today. Does anyone find Romesh Ranganathan in any way funny and does anyone feel that he has any talent in any area? Just wondering.
Final final thought today - we have a new fleet of electric buses in and around Norwich. Every time they stop they get mildly annoying. First of all there's a loud bing bong. You all know what a bing bong is. Then very loudly we hear "Input one doors opening" closely followed by "Input one doors closing." Makes me wonder what input two might be.
Final final final thought today - I quite like Michael Portillo in a kind of former MP kind of way. His current programme travelling by train around the British coastline is quite entertaining and certainly better than Clive Myrie in Italy.
Yesterday's journey started in Eastbourne and then travelled to Hastings and on into Kent.
Mr Portillo told us about the Battle of Hastings which of course actually took place at Battle. In 1066 it wasn't called Battle because that would have been too much of a co-incidence. It doesn't sound well to refer to it as the Battle of Battle.
But to the question. Michael P met up with an engaging historian who spookily was also called Michael. He was the kind of guy you would want to teach history in your school.
The other Michael talked about the Battle of Battle (sorry Hastings) whilst Michael P went off to get dressed in typical battle clothes of the day.
Back came Michael P with the question: "Michael what am I dressed as?"
To which the obvious answer was "a complete prat."