Move along please, there`s nothing to see here.

St. Swithin's day if thou dost rain, For forty days it will remain, St. Swithin's day if thou be fair , For forty days 'twill rain nae mair........oh heck. click here to read more. It looks like the boat building must begin sooner than anticipated. I must fell a few trees during my holiday and make an Arc, this time I shall take pairs of circus performers instead of animals. Juggling skills and death defying acrobatics must be preserved for generations to come. My boat will sail over the oceans with gasps of "oooh" and "aaah" as bearded ladies parade on deck as I steer a happy course to salvation.

Holiday coming over the brow, one more day at work and it's time to shed the skin of industrial regime and get back to freedom. My favourite part of such a break is the second week when self worth and confidence returns, a realisation that you could do anything you want to do and see a way of achieving such ideals. Sadly, the wind is knocked out of the sails as soon as you go back to clocking on and the monotony and mediocrity of the 9-5 returns.

Right children, listen carefully, you must do your bit for the environment by clicking this link and removing yourselves from junk mail forever more.

Well disaster has struck chez Ladyfriend and I. The washing machine has finally given up after two year's hard labour. We were greeted with a splurge on the kitchen floor yesterday and with no mangle to hand we were ringing out our delicates at 11pm. What a terrible blow to our holiday countdown. It's thrown a veritable spanner in the works. Thankfully my wonderful mother has kindly agreed to take in some coloureds at lunchtime. The bedding will just have to 'ride' for a little longer than planned. Merde.

The ladyfriend thinks the fault can be fixed but I know deep down that these consumables are made to break to keep the buggers in trade. Oh bring back the golden age of British manufacturing! It's telling to see old cars on the road - the mini and the morris minor - I doubt in ten years time we will see a punto at the pumps! No, I should imagine we will be found wandering the white goods aisle of Comet before the week is out.

The ladyfriend is out with Mizz Diane tonight. No doubt she will return home smelling of exotic food and hard liquor.

Starting to get excited about my holiday now. 4 days to go and then the ladyfriend and I are off to Eastbourne for two whole, perfectly formed weeks. No work, no packed lunches, no Sunday sinking feeling, no sapping computer exposure for two whole weeks. I am indeed looking forward to it. I don't care if the sun don't shine, I've got a living room to decorate and the most marvellous pub garden to sit in - for two whole weeks!

The ladyfriend has got a job on her hands however. As chief laundry woman (my talents lie in the kitchen) she has stopped me from wearing anything white until our sojourn begins. It's a challenge I can tell you. I am drawn to lighter shades.

Just foiled a kidnap attempt. Popped down to the garage for a little snack and the Evening Standard (I don't agree with the tawdry rag but one like's to keep abreast on current events) Anyway - I came out with my sandwhich and a strange man in a hunting jacket was talking to a taxi driver. They beckoned me over to help with directions to a school. Noticing the odd man had a rolled up newspaper (no doubt a hammer to bludgeon me) I stood well back and was not too helpful with directions. The taxi driver (his accomplice, drove off) The strange man walked with me. He made a comment on the mucky pub that has exotic dancers performing during the afternoon and that was it, I crossed the busy road leaving the odd fellow to get into his car. I escaped because I had my wits about me. I may now be trussed up like a Christmas turkey had I not been so careful!

An image that has haunted me all morning: on my merry way to work I caught a glimpse of a toddler banging at a bedroom window as the car headed on. It made me wonder, was the kiddy trying to attract attention. Was he a toddler in peril or was he just on a destructive path which will find him in an institution in later years?

Life is full of half glances which I don't know the end of. They are like films or programmes that you just watch five minutes of and don't reach the end. Bits of 'Bargain Hunt' that are on as I wait for the ladyfriend to get ready. How did the red team do? Was the toddler at the window in trouble? I will never know.

This weekend we are off to Eastbourne, with a good wind behind us (which is more than likely with this bizarre weather for July) there will be a salty sea breeze in my hair by 8pm. I don't half fancy a bacon butty on the seafront for breakfast.

Back on the subject of insects: at work, in our little room with tea and coffee making facilities, on the window ledge is the corpse of a dead wasp. I should imagine it speant its last days banging against the window trying to get out confused as to why it could not fly through. It made me think, what if we are all banging against glass in our lives oblivious to the fact that if we would only go in another direction we would be free? I shall stop now as I am beginning to sound like Jonathan Cainer.

Last night I had to place an urgent call to my wonderful mother. I had no idea how long to boil an egg to achieve a soft yolk fit for soldiers. She was out - no surprise there, dancing the night away in a village hall under tuition and, by the sounds of other members of her class, hopefully under medical supervision.

Unfortunately the ladyfriend's and my eggs were a little bit tough, I always seem to err on the side of caution (no bungee jumps for me). It made me realise my culinary skills need brushing up. I may be able to knock together a thai banquet with only a few hours notice but it means nothing if I can't make a light supper for a visiting invalid.

Pictures of glastonbury are trickling in by the way.

Back from a weekend camping in Avalon and the trench foot has just about cleared up. God blind my eye did it rain. It was a shame, I like the pitter patter of rain on canvas but when it's relentless it does lose its appeal. It was a lovely campsite. Bunnies and birds all over the place - quite magical. I recommend it highly. There were a few weirdy beardies there - it was Glastonbury afterall - click here if you're a happy camper.

Yesterday the ladyfriend and I were in Tesco hunter gathering the weekly shop and I was startled to find a bee in a punnet of cherry tomatoes. I turned the package carefully as one false move and the little insect would have been crushed. Its legs were moving, all beit slowly as he had obviously been in the fridge for a long time. I checked that they were English Tomatoes as I didn't want to let loose a killer bee from Africa which would go on to mate with a Buckinghamshire bee and take out half the population of High Wycombe (would that be a bad thing?)

I then ripped open the packaging and the ladyfriend took the little fella out into the warm sunshine. It caused quite a small crowd of shoppers as we all discussed the bee's incarceration. Those gangs of chinese workers should be a bit more carefull even if they are paid tuppence a day, we can't have them destroying our habitat. It might wash in the paddy fields but that sort of behaviour won't get them far in the market gardening areas of Britain.

Back from a weekend camping in Avalon and the trench foot has just about cleared up. God blind my eye did it rain. It was a shame, I like the pitter patter of rain on canvas but when it's relentless it does lose its appeal. It was a lovely campsite. Bunnies and birds all over the place - quite magical. I recommend it highly. There were a few weirdy beardies there - it was Glastonbury afterall - click here if you're a happy camper.

Yesterday the ladyfriend and I were in Tesco hunter gathering the weekly shop and I was startled to find a bee in a punnet of cherry tomatoes. I turned the package carefully as one false move and the little insect would have been crushed. Its legs were moving, all beit slowly as he had obviously been in the fridge for a long time. I checked that they were English Tomatoes as I didn't want to let loose a killer bee from Africa which would go on to mate with a Buckinghamshire bee and take out half the population of High Wycombe (would that be a bad thing?)

I then ripped open the packaging and the ladyfriend took the little fella out into the warm sunshine. It caused quite a small crowd of shoppers as we all discussed the bee's incarceration. Those gangs of chinese workers should be a bit more carefull even if they are paid tuppence a day, we can't have them destroying our habitat. It might wash in the paddy fields but that sort of behaviour won't get them far in the market gardening areas of Britain.

Off camping for the weekend tomorrow, I can't deny I'm a bit worried as the outlook for the weather is rather bleak. Temperatures will plummet at night. I'm sure I will have to end up sleeping in the shower blocks to find some form of comfort. How unreliable an English summer is. Nevermind, deposits are paid so Somerset bound 'R' us.

I am looking forward to waking up to birdsong, a most stimulating and heartwarming sound. A song centuries old, oh how I would love to know the words! I've been after a cd so that I can identify each bird but I have yet to find one. I shall have to pilfer one of those RSPB gift shops and pick up a protracting pencil emblazoned with my name at the same time. It's no lie to say I am becoming a bit of a twitcher.

Last night I found myself listening to country music and thought, "this is a nice toe-tapper." I switched off the radio in haste. I can't get into Country Music, the ladyfriend has only just come round to me liking folk music. She has the staying power of Peter Sutcliffe's wife but if I start going Nashville I'll be shown the proverbial door.