29 October 2014 (Wednesday) - Stuff

Yesterday I mentioned that I'd started taking prednisolone. According to wikipedia one of the major side effects is insomnia... After one day my nasal polyps have noticeably shrunk. However I saw every hour of the night last night and was up and watching "Family Guy" before 6am.

I set off to work through a rather damp morning. As I drove the talk on the radio was on illegal immigration into the UK.
Every day the Italian Navy sails the Mediterranean to look for (and bring back to Italy) people fleeing Africa. There's about four hundred of these people rescued every month. (and an estimated three hundred drowning in the attempt to get across the Med every month as well). Once brought ashore these people give the Italian authorities the slip, make their way straight to Calais (because there are no European border controls any more), jump on the backs of lorries and come to Britain. Why do they go to the furthest part of Europe from where they landed illegally? Because the benefit hand outs they will get are better than anywhere else in the world. Or so says the Mayor of Calais.
The Prime Minister is under attack because no one seems to have any control on illegal immigration into the UK however it seems to be easy enough to count the cost to the UK taxpayer.
Surely the answer to this problem is simple:
Stop the Italians going out and fetching back the illegal immigrants. Either by not sailing out looking for them in the first place, or by taking those rescued back to the African coast.
Beef up the security at Calais and Dover to stop these people getting to the UK.
Apprehend these people when they come to collect their dole and pack everyone back to the strife-torn war zones from which they have fled. Quite straight-forward really...(!) Mind you I can't help but wonder what I would do if I was in fear for my life and was so desperate as to risk everything to try to get to the UK...

Yesterday I mentioned that a new geocache had gone live along my drive to work. I wasn't going to play silly beggars in the dark last night, but as I drove into Chartham this morning so the rain abated. I parked up, and after a short walk along the cycle-path by the riverside I soon had the cache in hand. A straight-forward find in a rather idyllic spot. And First to Find into the bargain. Happy dance.

I got to work for the early shift, and shifted. Lunch time was damp, but I still ventured to the car park to practice my saxophone. Having got to my car rain stopped play; I sat and dozed in the driver's seat whilst I played various tunes stored on my phone.
And then after a rather busy afternoon I drove home. Through the rain. And once home I walked "Furry Face TM" through the rain. Just a short walk of five minutes but he managed to woof at two normal people and tried to fight with a taxi. He also managed to jump on and off the sofa this evening too.

I did have the offer of a wild night on the razzle this evening; "er indoors TM" was off to the arky-ologee club. Contrary to rumour the thing was not moribund and hasn't packed up from chronic apathy. Tonight they were presenting a stunning and fascinating lecture on the manky bits of broken pots that have been dug up locally by those with nothing better to do.
I've often thought that if manky bits of broken pots were actually stunning and fascinating then they wouldn't have been left in a ditch in the first place, but what do I know?
Bearing in mind the terrible night's sleep I'd had last night I decided I'd rather doze on my own sofa with my dog rather than snore in one of the arky-ologee club's uncomfortable seats. I watched a film I'd recorded a week or so ago. "Dog Pound" is the story of life inside a young offender's institution. It was rather dark, rather violent, and utterly predictable to anyone who'd seen the British film "Scum" which had been made some thirty years previously.

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