Yesterday evening I wasn’t feeling on top form; I was still rather grim when I woke. In addition to the seemingly constant pain in my left hip, left knee and right sinus I think I might be developing a cold too. As I watched “Orange is the New Black” over brekkie I realized I had two options. Either I could whinge constantly about it on social media or I could shut my rattle and get on with life. Either way will still hurt, so I shut my rattle and contented myself with having a little grumble here.
As I watched “Orange is the New Black” I had a little realization. One of the stars of the show is Kate Mulgrew who played Captain Janeway in Star Trek: Voyager. As I come to the end of the second season she is pretty much the only cast member who hasn’t either “flopped them out” or engaged in a nudey sauce romp with another woman. I wonder how long she will maintain standards.
I then had a little look at the Internet. Sure enough people were touting their maladies on Facebook. I glossed over that and looked at people’s holiday snaps. Much more fun. Mind you there is something odd about how my extended family, friends and acquaintances are holidaying this year. A month ago seemingly everyone was in Scandinavia on cruises. Two weeks ago several people were on various American road trips. Now three groups of friends are touring Europe.
Our holiday is still two months away…
As I drove to work the pundits on the radio were interviewing the Latvian foreign secretary. Apparently there are one hundred thousand Latvians living in the UK and there is all sorts of uncertainly about their future in a post-Brexit world. Now this figure of one hundred thousand Latvians was mentioned several times. However according to Wikipedia Latvia has slightly less than two million inhabitants. Are five per cent of all Latvians *really* resident in the UK?
There was also an interview with the Secretary of State for Transport who was pontificating on the pay rises being suggested for railway staff. No one seemed to have told him that since the nation had sold off all the railways to private firms (years ago), their pay rises was none of his business.
I stopped off at Aldi hoping I might have a nosey at their bargain section. Sometimes they have rather good stuff in their bargain section. Today it was all pet stuff. I thought about getting my hounds something but decided against it. Getting them presents usually ends in a squabble. Instead I bought some bog-roll which is not only “delicately fragranced” but is also “enriched with lotion”. I wonder what lotion… I hope my bum’s not allergic to it.
Work was work; I did my bit and came home. "er indoors TM" had gone to Cheryl’s birthday meal. I would like to have gone but leaving Maidstone at half past five made getting to Dymchurch for six o’clock somewhat tricky.
I took the dogs round the park. As we walked Treacle met Percy. Percy is a pug (of sorts) and they played chase very nicely. Fudge had a dump very nicely too. Usually when he “goes” he leaves a trail of turds over a yard or so for me to gather up, but for once he made a nice neat pile. Just as I was about to pick it up, Treacle and Percy charged through the pile. Several times. That which they didn’t stamp into the grass they got all over their paws.
Percy’s mum wasn’t impressed. She tried to laugh it off, but I could see she wasn’t happy. Such a shame; Treacle so rarely plays with other dogs.
Some days in my life are exciting. Some are fun. And other days you find the highlight is dog poo and scented bog roll…
When Treacle sleeps well, everyone sleeps well. Last night Treacle was rather restless. I eventually gave up trying to sleep and went downstairs where I tripped over a lump of parquet flooring which was laying on the kitchen lino; Treacle has taken to chewing it from the lavatory floor. I wish she wouldn’t. Fudge would never think of doing anything like that; Treacle’s behavior is far worse than his.
After I’d had my ablutions I went to do my usual kitchen routine; make sandwiches whilst toast cooked, but there was a minor disaster. We had no bread, so I roughed it with honey nut corn flakes with warm milk. A few weeks ago "er indoors TM" bought a new fridge with has two settings; tepid or frozen. It seems it is the fridge itself which decides on the setting.
I watched an episode of “Orange is the New Black”, and then had a look at the Internet. It was still there. Little had changed on Facebook, but I had a dozen emails from someone who had travelled quite a long way to Ashford to play some of the Wherigos I’d set. It was a shame he didn’t say nice things about them (or anything at all really) but you can’t have everything. At least he found them, which is more that I suspect “Vyrembi and Niggae” did with my Earthcache on Greatstone beach.
As I walked down the road to my car there was a young family standing outside one of the houses over the road having a full-blown "domestic" in the street. I did sympathise with the father when he asked if they couldn't have the row inside, and I sniggered when mother said no. I would have liked to have stood and watched how it progressed, but it's not really the done thing, is it?
Having had no bread to make a sandwich I popped to the co -op to get myself a sarnie. I got a rather interesting looking ham salad one, and risked life and limb as I waded to get a bag of their salt and vinegar crisps. Co-op salt and vinegar crisps are rather good, but there was a rather bored young lady who was washing the floor near the crisps - I say "washing the floor" - I've seen less water slopping about in lakes when I've been fishing.
With lunch acquired I set off up the motorway. As I drove I listened to the radio. There was talk about one silly old woman who wasn't happy with her recent holiday to Benidorm. She'd been horrified to find the place crawling with Spanish people. "The entertainment in the hotel was all focused and catered for the Spanish - why can't the Spanish go somewhere else for their holidays?" she asked. I thought this was all some sort of joke, but the old bat was for real. What *really* boils my piss isn't what she said, or her attitude (some people are just plain stupid); what boils my piss is that this woman is allowed to vote and do jury service.
Meanwhile the Canadians have found aliens. That's nice for them.
I got to work; I dd my bit and came home. For once "er indoors TM" had beat me home, and we took the dogs round the park. Despite the fun fair having shut up shop on Sunday, most of the stalls and caravans are still in the park. We managed to stop the dogs from tiddling up caravans (unlike yesterday) and kept them out of the river.
It would have been good to have gone round to the Tuesday meet-up, but time had really run away with us this evening. It was well past seven o’clock by the time we’d got home from the park. And I wasn’t feeling on top form either. A quiet evening in front of the telly and an early night… let’s hope Treacle settles.
I woke half an hour before the alarm was due to go off to find Treacle had wormed herself up close to me overnight. She looked so peaceful it was a shame to disturb her. But I did.
We got up and went downstairs; Treacle then cuddled up to Fudge who was fast asleep on the sofa.
Over brekkie I watched half an episode of "Orange is the New Black", though anyone walking in unannounced would have been forgiven for thinking it was some sort of porno movie. I can't understand what the makers of the show were thinking about; usually filth is wheeled out when the writers have run out of ideas. The show doesn't need the smut. Perhaps the people who make it are just beasts?
I settled the dogs and went out to my car where I spent a few minutes watching not-so-nice-next-door attempting to turn her car. Her driving is like her piano-playing; after several years she is still terrible at it.
As I drove to work I listened to the radio. The pundits were discussing Doctor Hadiza Bawa-Garba who had been struck off the medical register in perpetuity following the unfortunate death of a child. Today the courts were to be ruling on whether a lifetime ban was too draconian a punishment. The dead child's mother was being interviewed and she was spitting bile about how the doctor should never be reinstated. The doctor in question was interviewed who was truly repentant, and there were reports from the time of the incident which outlined how all manner of circumstances in the hospital where the death had occurred had conspired against this poor doctor.
Is it fair that she should take the blame for the culmination of several systemic failings? Surely she should be reinstated? Surely no one is so perfect that they never make a mistake? I’m glad she won her appeal.
I got to work and did that which I couldn't avoid. Being on an early start I hadn't had time for my usual trawl round the Internet before work, so I had a look-see at tea break. It would seem I missed the kite festival at Teston country park over the weekend. I'd forgotten all about that. In years gone by that event was *such* a large part of my life. Would I have gone had I remembered? I wouldn't have camped out but being at a loose end (and rather bored) yesterday I probably would have gone for a look-see. Oh well... maybe next year?
As I perused the Internet I had a rather good cake; a colleague had had a birthday and had made us all sticky chocolate caramel cup-cakes. They were rather good.
An early start made for an early finish. I got home at about the same time as the rain started, and I took the dogs round the park. There had clearly been heavy rain in Ashford today. The river was very full, but still the dogs wanted a swim.
They had one.
We came home, and after a little fiddling about with printers "er indoors TM" boiled up pizza and chips before she went bowling. I stayed home and watched endless lesbian sex on Netflix. Mind you to be fair to the makers of “Orange is the New Black” there is a plot in between the nudey sauce romp bits.
I also paid the remainder of the boat hire money for the boat trip out to the geocache in the Thames Estuary that I’m planning for in a few weeks’ time. As is so often the case, my organizing this trip is fast becoming yet another example of the veracity of the two hundred and eighty-fifth Rule of Acquisition: “No good deed goes unpunished”.
There is a geocache (well, two actually) in the Thames estuary that you cannot get at without a boat. So I chartered one.
To offset the cost I offered out seats to friends and friends of friends. It is just a private venture, but word of this trip has got about and I have lost count of the amount of people (that I don’t know and have never met) who have given me a hard time about it. There are those who have messaged to tell me that they are coming and then taken offence when I have told them they are not. There are others who have messaged to tell how I should have advertised the event (when it was never a public event to be advertised in the first place). There are those who have taken their inability to secure a seat on the boat as a personal insult from me.
I would say that I am sorry that I bothered in the first place… but I’m not. I want to go on this boat trip. Those that have been left behind can easily organize their own trip. It’s not difficult to do… but I bet they won’t.