11 August 2014 (Monday) - Stuff

I had a particularly vivid dream last night in which my dog had developed the power of speech and was continually crying "please don't hurt me Granddad" which I found to be very upsetting. As if I'd ever hurt that soppy pup.
I was woken by the alarm (which very rarely happens) and went downstairs to find "Furry Face TM" had had a little "potty accident" in the night and he was looking incredibly upset and worried. Bearing in mind my dream I was rather spooked by this.

I watched "Family Guy" over brekkie, fed my toast crusts to "Furry Face TM" who was still rather subdued, did a little tidying, and set off to work on what was a beautiful morning compared to yesterday. Yesterday I was tearing my hair out in boredom with the rain; today was glorious sunshine.
As I drove I listened to the radio. I say "listened"; one of the first items was the morning's sport update. Sport has no interest for me, and I don't really listen to that. And having lost concentration on the sport I didn't really pay much attention to the rest of the program until the pundits were crucifying some bigwig from the RSPCA. Apparently the RSPCA have had a cat put to sleep for having long hair.
As always there was far more to the story than the sensationalist headline, but during the interview it came to light that the RSPCA are facing a funding crisis. Their income from donations is plummeting as more and more people feel the RSPCA are less interested in animal welfare and more interested in playing silly political games.
I had a wry smile over this. From 1984 to 1986 we lived in a flat the landlady of which was an active member of a crackpot-lefty-greenie-tree-hugging-animal-rights-political-activist bunch. Such groups were rife in the early 1980s. I can distinctly remember a conversation with her when she told me that her group would never have any respect from the public, that they were seen as being a bunch of loonies, and that she and others of her group were all going to seek office in the RSPCA and use that as a platform from which they would be able to get taken seriously. Looks like they've finally achieved their goal.

I stopped off at Morrisons for a little shopping before work. It wasn't so much a supermarket as a children's play area. I nearly got mowed down by brats on scooters. Several times. There were no parents to be seen, and the staff didn't seem bothered. Perhaps the staff use the store as a playground for their children during school holidays?

To work, which was much the same as ever. Lunchtime sax practice was odd; I was in mid toot when I felt a spot of rain. In ten seconds (literally) the sky went black and torrential rain hit; complete with thunder and lightning. I dived into the car and carried on blowing ion there for twenty minutes until the storm stopped every bit as quickly as it had started. This was just as well - I could now get back to work without getting soaked.

Home (through the rain) for lamb chops and jacket potatoes. Very tasty. And with "er indoors TM" off bowling I settled down on the sofa with my dog and caught up with "The Mill" which I'd recorded last night. Esther's had a baby.... where did that come from?

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