Snowy Friday

It's a Friday and it's snowy outside.  That's about the long and short of it.  James is coming over later once he's finished his week's work at 'TechCityRock' the start-up company he's employed at.  Actually, the place sounds a rather fun place to work - they produce language tuition based around 1980s and 1990s pop videos and export them to every country with the exception of Germany, from which they are banned after an unnamed incident occurred during Ostertechfiest 2011.  James admits to being a bit of a maths nerd and in his youth won the 'Texas Instruments Little Professor Mathematics Award 1987'.

The Aftermath of The Blean Woods Cabin

Oh my word, what an experience I had over the New Year period.  If you recall from my previous posts, James' family own a cabin which is located in Blean Woods (near Canterbury, Kent) and we went to stay with them for a few days between Christmas and New Year?  We travelled there in James' ancient Fiat Panda and had to park about two miles away from the cabin, as there were no roads transversing the forest.  When we finally arrived after tramping through acres of muddy undergrowth, the 'cabin' wasn't as plush as I'd imagined - in fact, it was practically medieval.  I was given the guided tour and the most worrying fact is that there were no separate bedrooms - everyone bunked down in the main living room "as they used to back in 1509!" sparkled Mrs McCoy.  Hmm.

There was no toilet either - merely a wooden seat suspended over a sawdust covered tank of filth, which stank.  The 'shower' facility comprised of another family member pouring various watering cans over the 'lucky' washee whilst he/she was clad in a lycra swimsuit.  The food wasn't much better - Mr McCoy (Roy McCoy if you please!) liked to bake the creatures which fell out of the local trees after he'd carried out his daily shaking ceremony.  I don't know whether you'll agree with me, but roasted squirrel isn't really my idea of a slap up feast?

The most worrying aspect of the whole stay was that Mr and Mrs McCoy used to like observing their only son making love to his girlfriend and then offering advice on how to improve his performance.  Me, being me, decided against this and was glad that I'd purchased a robust pair of longjohns prior to our trip, which were nigh on impossible to get out of.

I think that I'm going off of James.