I woke about three
hours earlier than I needed to today, and finding myself unable to get back to
sleep I got up and watched more “BattleStar
Galactica” before setting off to work. The pavements up our road were
rather impassable as I left home. The bin men had been getting better, but it
was rather obvious they didn’t want to work today and had made a point of
blocking the pavements with the bins. I’ve emailed the council; I doubt
anything will come of it though.
The roads were rather
quiet as I drove to work. There didn’t seem to be many people other than me and
the bin men at work today. For all that I do like my chosen profession, if I
had my time again I would choose a job which puts up a “closed” sign from time to time.
As I drove the pundits
on the radio were discussing Saturn’s moon Enceladus. The experts at NASA
have recently announced that the place might harbour life. I thought that was
common knowledge (rather like lungs and
platelets!) but what do I know.
I had a bit of a
chuckle at the “thought for the day”
bit. The chap spouting the platitudes today was a “typical vicar”. In my experience nobody ever takes any notice of a
“typical vicar” and so they can talk
any old rubbish and get away with it because nobody is listening. This was
certainly the case this morning; the vicar just spouted various non-sequitur
platitudes. No sentence he uttered had any logical connection with what went
before or came after. Does anyone ever pay attention to “thought for the day” ? What a waste of prime-time national radio.
I went to the petrol
station to fuel my car. As I was filling the car someone who had just paid for
her petrol got into her car, wound the window down and shouted very loudly and
clearly at me as she drove off. “Your
car’s vile!” was what she hollered. Both I and the woman at the checkout
looked at each other and wondered what that was all about.
I got to work, did my
four hours and came home. The original plan had been to fix the loose fence
posts this afternoon, but "Daddy’s Little Angel TM"
and her entourage had been diverted to Folkestone. We can fix the fence posts
another time. Instead I went into the garden and replaced the broken fence
panel. As I did I got chatting with “nice
next door” and had a lager with them. Fudge wandered through (as though he owned the place) as I was
removing the scraps of the old panel. And then the puppy got involved. But I
got the job done and had a chat with our new neighbours too.
I then mowed the lawn
and had a general tidy up. I carried on until my elbow hurt too much to
continue.
I ironed shirts, then
did some geo-homework in preparation for Sunday. And after a rather good bit of
scoff I found myself falling asleep in front of the telly.
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