4 July 2016 (Monday) - Bit Tired

I had a really early night last night. The weekend's fun had really taken it out of me. I slept like a log until 4am, then just lay awake trying to sleep before finally giving up shortly after 6am.
Over brekkie I did the weekend's geo-admin. Or (more precisely) I told my laptop what geo-admin to do, and as it did it I had a look to see what I'd missed on social media over the weekend. I seem to be ranting about my fellow man quite a lot these days. Here's something else to rant about. I saw this piccie on Facebook this morning. I saw it several times It has two pictures. It starts with a whole loads of youngsters protesting that the older voters were in favour of leaving the EU (not entirely fair) and ends with scenes from the Second World War implying the youngsters are ungrateful and disrespectful to the older generation of voters who (presumably) fought for them.
What those posting this picture seemed to overlook (or don't realise) is that the war shown in the pictures ended seventy one years ago. And so anyone who actually fought in the war must now be (at least) eighty five years old (assuming they lied about their age when joining up). Whereas the statistics show that the vast majority of the voters against whom the pictured youngsters were ranting weren't born until ten years after that war.
Do those people posting these pictures realise this? Do they even realise they won that referendum and it is now time to move on? Or do they feel that having fought a war against a nation (a lifetime ago) is reason to hate that nation for evermore? I have German and Spanish friends. Is that wrong?
I wish I knew what happens inside some people's heads. If nothing else it might help me understand just what is going on.

I then realised that my laptop had done the geo-admin that I'd told it to do. However what I had told it to do wasn't exactly the same as what I actually wanted it to do. I'd mistakenly got it to log Fudge's trackable along with us. (Fudge has got a tag with which we recod how many miles he goes geocaching and it now had over three hundred miles too many). So I spent half an hour undoing what my laptop had done in a couple of minutes.

I popped the lead onto "Furry Face TM" and we walked round to meet "Daddies Little Angel TM" and "Stormageddon - Bringer of Destruction TM". Apparently all is not sweetness and light with the mother and toddler group. The toddlers have had fisticuffs, and the mothers have been coming close. Ironically the group is called "Happy Faces"...
We walked through the North Park and came home past the e-fags shop. We were alomost home when I noticed that "Furry Face TM" was smothered in fox poo. How had he done that? So "Daddies Little Angel TM" carried on scraping up brindle chippings in the garden whilst my dog had a bath. I mowed the lawn whilst more brindle chippings got scraped up until the younger generations set off to the play park.

I had an early lunch spent looking at the geo-map, then took myself off to bed for the afternoon. I slept for maybe twenty minutes until my dog decided to have a barking fit for absolutely no reason whatsoever. With him suitably chastised I goot another hour's sleep before a gaggle of senior citizens sat on my garden wall and started shouting at each other.
I gave up trying to sleep at about 3pm and did the household accounts instead. They've been better. They could be worse.

"Upstairs Downstairs" was on the telly; it's always entertaining. And then Jimbo arrived to collect some camping gear. He's off to Brighton Kite Festival this weekend. In previous years I've been the first one to go, but "er indoors TM" couldn't get the time off work this year and I found myself wondering if I actually wanted to go. Much as we do have a good time there I've not flown a kite since last year's festival, and I've not been a member of Brighton Kite Fliers for some years. Would going along be taking advantage?
And there is an awful lot of work setting up and taking down the camp. And what with my sleep apnoea I can't sleep and I spend several hours sitting around in the mornings waiting for everyone else to get up; on one day last year I was wide awake at 4am waiting for a brekkie which finally arrived at 11am.
In previous years we've gone mob-handed (which shares out the work) but over time people have gone their seperate ways. So this year I've decided to give it a miss.
As we loaded stuff into his car part of me wondered if I actually want to go....

I'm off to the night shift now...

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