I
woke this morning to find I ached. Much as I like the walks on a
Sunday I do ache on the following Monday. I struggled to get my
carcass down the stairs, and over a spot of brekkie depressed myself
by reading what was going on in the world of social media.
The
aftermath of the referendum is going to take a long time to settle. A
*lot* of those who voted out have loudly made it clear that
they didn't vote for racism-motivated reasons. I suspect that many of
them didn't. However the morning's news brought reports of a tirade
of racially motivated name-calling, grafitti and even physical
attacks happening
all over the country. The mayor of London and the British Muslim
Council have
expressed concerns as has the
Polish embassy in London.
Some
of this may well be anti-Brexit proopaganda, some of it (including
the ones personally know about) is not.
As
a child I had such high hopes for the future.
I
took "Furry Face TM" for a walk.
As I put the lead onto him I noticed it was rather tight. He is
supposed to be losing weight...
We
went for a wander round the park. As we went I saw a woodpecker and I
admired its beauty. They seem to be becoming more common in the park.
My dog saw a squirrel and saw red. He set off in hot pursuit through
a bush. I'm sure there used to be more squirrels in the park.
We
also met a posse of dog walkers. Those who were never in OrangeHead's
little gang seem to be forming their own clique. Whether it is just a
mutual friendship or rivalry against Orangehead's chums is as yet
uncertain, but this lot seem friendlier to me than Orangehead does.
I
wore the trainers that got absolutely soaked on Saturday. They have
dried out but seem to have shrunk a little. Maybe they will stretch
again?
Once
home I popped more stuff out to dry in the garden, and then chivvied
my dog out of the gravelled areas. Having spent hours moving the
chippings about, that dog had pushed them all back again.
I
also looked at the washing line. It snapped under the weight of the
event shelter yesterday. Getting a new washing line is easy enough,
but I need a ladder to put it in place. My ladder "went into
storage" when "Daddies Little Angel TM"
moved out of Folkestone. "My Boy TM"
claims he knows where it is. I sent him a text on the matter.
I
then ran round with the Hoover. That is on the blink. Whilst it does
suck stuff up it doesn't seem to move across the floor as easily as
it once did. I've had a look at the thing but can't see anything
wrong with it. I might give it a clout with my cooking hammer. That
usually sorts things out (one way or the other).
I
wasted ten minutes looking at the geo-map trying to plan for the
weekend, then shouted at "Furry Face TM"
who was going ballistic because the postman had arrived.
I
set off for work a lot later than I usually do and pausing only
briefly in Morrisons I was at work with minutes to spare. And as is
often the case when on the late shift, everything worth mentioning
today happened before 11.30am...
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