The House Husband

I found a new pub in Farnham tonight. New to me, anyway. I just know Nicktor will be telling me he was banned from it in 1985. Anyway, it’s called The Lamb. It’s down an odd little road that is cut off by the A31. You can just about make it out from the traffic lights but I’d always thought it was the William Cobbett.

Tonight, Mirinda texted me to arrange to pick up Chinese food, so I decided to walk down this little road as I’d never walked down it before. And blow me over with a fairy’s yawn, there’s the Lamb, all warm and inviting. I was sorely tempted to sample it’s evening delights (I was a bit early and we’d arranged to meet at 6pm) but settled for a photo instead. I can just hear Nicktor saying I’m an idiot.

The Lamb, Farnham

It was one of my options to blip tonight but as I walked by Gostrey Meadow, Mirinda having changed our mind about the Chinese – the time not the food – and my having started back for home, I spotted a lovely scene. Through pools of light, a woman walking (I assume) to the station. It was an excellent opportunity for a photo. I put the camera on a wall and set it to take a shot over about four seconds. That first one was consigned to the pit of hell which is the waste-paper bin. I took a second and I was really pleased with it. You can see it here.

And speaking of the William Cobbett, I managed to get a nice shot of it as well.

The William Cobbett, Farnham

Which gives me an idea. I think I’ll wander the night time streets of Farnham and take pictures of all the pubs with their lights on. They look so warm and inviting. I’d have to take my tripod and, of course, my wallet. Sounds like a sterling idea. Wonder if Nicktor fancies it?
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At work today I learnt about two army doctors. One was a favourite of Napoleon who changed the way battlefield medicine was practised and the other was blown up during the Indian Mutiny of 1857-59.

Killed during the Indian Mutiny was Surgeon Thomas Stack. He made little models of field hospital stuff like tents and beds and rickshaws. I’m assuming he did that during lulls in fighting. During one non-lull period he was involved in a bit of biffo with the baddies and wound up dead and out in the open. Another chap, of the same regiment, dashed into the fray in order to save the Doc, not realising he was already done for. This other chap, Corporal Michael Sleavon, received a VC for his insane bravery.

The other chap managed to survive all of his war campaigns although he went on many alongside his old chum, Boney. His name was Dr Dominique Larrey. He was truly amazing and very, very brave. Napoleon described him as “the worthiest man I ever met” and Wellington saluted him at Waterloo. Rather than re-write what’s already been written…here’s a link to an excellent site about him.
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It’s funny to note that searches for ‘Naked Jenny Agutter’ are still bringing up my blog! In saying that, I’m not sure how. I’ve tried on a number of search engines and I’m not on the first three pages of any of them. Someone is really persevering!

Our neighbours are weird. I think I’ve said something similar before. I think they’re getting weirder.

Mirinda has noticed that the father often takes the dogs for a walk late at night. In the park. Unless there’s a good, bright moon, the park is pitch black.

So, tonight I’m in the bedroom, folding up the clean clothes, Carmen and Day-z helping in the way that only they can, by sleeping and suddenly there’s this god-awful screaming. Naturally the poodles went crazy and started barking then dashed off the bed and out the back where they proceeded to yell at the fence down the end of the garden. being a human and therefore having the ability to out think a poodle, I looked out the front window.

Next door’s porch light was on and the new rescue dog was sitting there emitting the screechy noise. I think it was trying to sing. Meanwhile I could hear our two right down the back of the garden barking at nothing.

The front door was open and the dog was bathed in the hall light. And then the father came out, lead in hand and led the dog up to the park. Interestingly, it was just the new rescue dog and not Otis, the scaredy-cat whippet they own.

It took ages for the poodles to come back but come back they did. They leapt onto the bed, collapsed and were instantly asleep. Wish I was a poodle sometimes.