26 May 2017 (Friday) - Poorly Dog
Another restless night; I was rather warm. Over brekkie I watched an episode of “Detectorists”. The BBC is re-running the first season; I saw someone had been watching the show from a posting on Facebook and I had a sulk that I was missing new episodes. I wasn’t, but I then realised I’d like to watch the show again. Catch-up TV is a wonderful thing.
When it finished John Wilson’s fishing show was playing on the Quest channel. For all that I like fishing, I don’t really like the John Wilson fishing shows much. There’s something about the chap that winds me up; it is my brother’s lame to fame that he once told Mr Wilson to bugger off.
I then got the lap-top going and had a look into cyber-space. There wasn’t anything that happened on Facebook overnight. There had been this “don’t post anything on social media for twenty minutes to show support for the Manchester victims” thing last night (no – I didn’t understand it either) and it would seem that no one really then wanted to be the first person to be seen to post afterwards.
My email in-box was similarly disappointing. I had an offer of a cut-price coach trip to Windsor Castle (the trip included a cream tea on the river Thames!) but that was about it.
As I did this Fudge watched quietly from his basket without moving…
I set off to work. I had a moment’s panic when I saw the motorway information boards were saying there were serious delays between junctions five and six. I had a sense of serious relief when I realised that was for the M25; not the M20 that I was on. But as luck would have it there *was* a serious delay beteen junction five and six on my motorway anyway.
As I drove to work the pundits on the radio were making some thought-provoking comments about the mind-set of the recent terrorist atrocities. It was pointed out that Britain (and other countries) have a habit of getting involved in other people’s wars to support whichever side suits the political whim of the day, and once the perceived baddie is defeated, the poor locals are left without a pot to piss in and suffering the aftermath of a war they didn’t create. Furthermore they are then subjected to the crackpot religious ideas of whichever local nutter thinks he has a direct line to god in his head. And from what I’ve recently gleaned of history, up until a few hundred years ago much of European history was basically fighting over various superstitions so is it really surprising that religious nutters causing trouble are abounding? History repeating itself?
It was suggested that the Western world might leave others alone.
A racist thought? Maybe?
I got to work and had a good day. People brought in cakes and ice creams, and the workload was rather quiet. And an early start made for an early finish.
I came home; the puppy was rather excited, but my dog was limping about. He definitely overdid it in the river yesterday. We didn’t go for our evening walk; instead I spent two hours in the garden; I strimmed and mowed the lawn, then strimmed and mowed it again. By the time I’d raked up the grass and cut back the roses and clematis and assorted jungle hanging over the fence from not-so-nice-next-door I’d filled our garden waste recycle bin.
I’d intended to spend half an hour or so in the garden; I spent two hours out there.
"er indoors TM" came home and sorted dinner which we scoffed with a bottle of plonk. Little Fudge didn’t move all evening. I think he’s going to be on the sick list for a little while…