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In 5 days or so, by the end of the week, wonder how my farm is?

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War..Huh...What is good for...people who enjoy re-enactment really.

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In the words of the song, by Edwin Starr.  War, huh, Yeah, What is it good for, absolutely nothing, Uh Huh. Although, yesterday this was proved wrong as it was good for something. It is good for the 6,000 people who I am told are member of the Sealed Knot   . There are those of us, whose hobbies tend to be more sedate in nature; Reading, Gardening, making ships out of matchsticks and then there are those who believe that a weekend could not be complete without charging into some one else behind a 30ft ash pike, dressed as a time traveller from the 17th Century. I am, sadly, not one of these individuals as the idea of camping that frequently fills me with dread. Let alone how you tie down a pike or a halberd to the roof bars of a Ford Fusion. But thanks must go to those individuals who, do, want to live that lifestyle and be truly passionate about their hobby. And I guess be passionate about that 'Period' of English History to want to spend their time and their money...
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New, old car!

My wife has the main car. It's the one I use to commute the 60 miles to work and then back again in the evening. I will be using her runaround for 2 work days. It is a tiny little Toyota Yaris. There are a few things to be said, to add context. With me inside it, then. A) It's like putting an elephant into a shoe box! B) I have now had the car for 3 days and am still unable to figure out how to tune the radio to another station. C) I have, with the help of the next door neighbour, figured out how you turn main beam on and, more importantly, off again. So, that's been pretty successful. starting it, pointing it and stopping it has been okay so far, too! Yet, it's still an elephant in a shoe box.
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I first wanted to be blasted into space but quite frankly this wins my heart, literally.

Okay, so have you thought of the end game of what happens to the vessel when death strikes? I have, and I was quite convinced that there were 2 ways in which I would prefer to dealt with when my time comes. I have been for a fair few years now. 1 - Have my ashes blasted into space. This option has always been a favourite, if only from the point of view that at some point, in a geological time scale my ashes, based on the laws of probabilities, will converge and form an asteroid or even a planet, both options are pretty darn cool. So I can truly reside on Planet Theaker, instead of being accused of this, I will become one. 2 - The full on Viking cremation at sea. While my mortal remains sail out to sea my friends on the river bank will launch a flaming arrow into the wooden funeral pyre upon which I would lie, dressed as a Victorian dandy. There are two issues here which would need sorting, one would be to begin befriending the UK Olympic archery team and the other is finding an exp...
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