So our really good friend Mrs Fink is doing a midnight charity womble tonight in aid of the Hospice of St Francis (Berkhamsted) and the challenge was if she raised £100 by this evening, she would do it in pink jim jams carrying a life sized plastic heron, well this is the picture of her all set to go and womble after raising in excess of £485, fantastic.

A fantastic cause and an excellent outfit.

Today is Mr Foggs Harley day in deepest Wales. I dropped him off this morning in Bullith Wells into a room full of Harleys to have a go at riding. Left to my own devices I have come along to the Elan Valley to a series of reservoirs. breathtaking, and the weather is just fab. Wales, we miss living here every day. I cannot explain it, but this is home! Who can resist the rugged hillsides, dark cliffs contrasting with every shade of green and soaring buzzards. clean white sheep and landscapes of every scale from every angle.

I visited a kite feeding centre this afternoon where over 200 red kites descend from the skies into one small field to eat meat put out by the Kite trust. An incredible sight to see these magnificent birds of prey gather and soar, darkening the skies for one brief moment as they come down.

Meanwhile, Mr Fogg is still riding Harleys through the Welsh countryside, wonder how he is getting on?

Well back for a week now (boo hoo), Mrs Fogg is heavily ensconced in all things sailory (cryptic on where she works ya see), having been to Bournemouth this week, I on the other hand man of leisure attending 3 interviews and having to go back to ye oldie jobbie place to re-register as unemployed (remember the farce, I have to not be unemployed whilst outside the UK on holiday, only “not working”). So good little chappie I go do my duty to have the same snotty kid from the first time reel off the same garbage at me. Re-registered on Weds I am then told I need to go back on Friday to prove I am looking for work, ha! On Friday duly pootle down and sit with another kid who asks “so tell me what have you done to find work since registering”, “what you mean in the last 24 hours, well watched Oprah, put my feet up, got drunk, all the usual” answers I. “Let me ask you little kiddy what do you think I have done, but I could certainly done a lot more if I didn’t have to come down here every two days and waste time talking to you!”. Ah bless their little cotton sox.

But now after searching I start on a contract role for an managed service company, so I can tell em where to stick their £62 a week. Couldn’t I have just told them Friday that I have a job offer? Not according to the “Signing off department”, as with all well run govt departments you have tonnes of depts all doing pretty much re same job. Apparently, if you try to tell them in advance of starting work, they would cancel everything and back date it to the first day you re-register, duh, so I had to lie, I have no job offer and I am actively seeking, I then have to contact them the day before I start work to tell them, because their compooters and systems can’t manage the fact that you will start a job in a few days not straight away. And who says it’s not working properly.

So we had the Caddies over Fri night for a Foggy BBQ (well when Mrs Fogg arrived back from Bournemouth that is), then on Sat we went to Elvington Airfield and spent about 4 hours there, cool planes. Mrs Caddy decided to ignore the barriers and signs telling you not to walk between the aircraft for safety reasons, Mr & Mrs Caddy managed to attract the local wierdo bag lady who was dying to talk to someone, anyone “I found this hat on a beach with a map, do you like my hat, it’s very nice”, Mrs Caddy litterally running out of the ladies to avoid being collared by the woman and upon leaving Mrs Foggy managed to take part in a waving competition from the car with mentally challenged young man, thinking he was waving her to stop, when in actual fact he liked her blue car, so she kept waving at him, then after realising she urged us to quickly wind her window up to stop him climbing in it, mmmmmm.

The evening was rounded off by a trip to the Ryther Arms for plenty of dead cow, alcohol and good fun.