1 November 2018 (Thursday) - It Rained
I slept for over eight hours last night. It is odd that I can’t sleep much during the day time after a night shift, but I am out like a light during the night. I was eventually woken by the sound of the torrential rain on the window this morning.
There was so much I might have done today. There was talk of fishing. I might have taken the dogs on a rather long walk. The garden really needs a bit of attention. Everything was abandoned because of the awful weather. Perhaps it is time for a review of my lifestyle and find things to do which don’t involve being outside.
Mind you I’m glad we’ve got the rain this week and not last week when we were away on holiday. We had a *really* good break in the New Forest. Was it only a week ago?
Over brekkie I had a look-see at Facebook. A friend’s granddaughter was very ill, and she was asking for prayers for the little one. How does that work? Presumably the prayers are directed to some god who could cure the child? Surely this begs the question of why the god allowed the child to get ill in the first place, and why does the god have to be begged for help. Is this god the capricious sort that allows bad things to happen (or causes them) just so we beg for assistance? Or does it just have no idea what is going on until we prompt it with a prayer? I’m not sure I want anything to do with a deity like that. I wish I understood religion.
Another friend was ranting on-line about what a bitch his ex-girlfriend was and was listing her many and varied failings to the world whilst wondering why the courts were siding with her in his ongoing custody battle.
I had the obligatory email from Amazon suggesting I buy that which I’d already bought, and an email from the Internet provider telling me all the wonderful deals they were offering on the phone line that I cancelled last month.
The bank had sent me an email. They’ve started providing an e-newsletter. Someone’s obviously being paid a lot of money to produce the thing. I wonder how many readers it will get? I for one have no interest in reading a load of corporate nonsense.
Despite the rain I took the dogs round the park. Hardly anyone else had ventured out, but we did meet a rather bedraggled chap and his equally bedraggled red setter which Fudge tried to hump. When we were nearly home we met OrangeHead; her dog was wearing a coat. Fudge flatly refuses to wear a coat but I might try one on Treacle.
We got home just as the dishwasher was finishing. As we left I’d set both it and the washing machine on a one-hour cycle. The dishwasher was done but the washing machine still had half an hour to go. What was that all about?
I dried the dogs and settled them, gathered the dry washing from the radiators and went up into town. With pretty much all of the day’s possibilities being washed out I thought I might go to the library. Having done the Snowdog trail there were some freebies to be collected.
I drove into town, got to the car park and watched some old git push to the front of the queue for the car park tickets, then once at the library I watched some old bat elbow her way in front of me. When she’d finished giving the librarian serious abuse about the state of the local bus services (?) I got to collect my free badges and pens. The nice lady at the library told me about the upcoming Snowdog event and the auction at which they will all be sold off. Whilst there is no telling what price they will fetch, those “in the know” feel each Snowdog will sell for between three and five thousand pounds.
I wish I could afford one.
With time still left on the car park ticket I thought I might have a little look round town. Again the elderly showed their complete disregard for queuing in WH Smiths and Waterstones.
I came home and found that Treacle had knocked over all the washing I’d collected from the radiators. I knew it was her and not Fudge; I’d put it on the chair that she uses as a jump-off point to get on to the table. She knew she’d done wrong, but she got told off anyway. She then spent much of the afternoon sulking at me.
Over a spot of lunch I watched another episode of “Prison Break”. It is OK, but (like all fiction) *really* would benefit from a bit of research by the writers. For example if you want to visit a prisoner, you can’t just turn up. It’s not that simple. Before you can even consider going to visit, the prisoner himself has to add you to their list of visitors. Then the prisoner will send you a form which you fill out and return to the prison saying exactly who is coming (only those on the prisoner’s list are allowed) and what date you would like; the date being about a fortnight or so into the future. *If* you are lucky you’ll have your request approved.
Along the same lines was an e-book I’ve been reading. Billed as “hard SF” the author prides himself on writing fiction, but with “proper” science. He was banging on about preventing iron overloading by use of a reduced iron diet. For reasons I could go on about (for literally hours on end) the human body don’t work that way.
I spent a little time All I heard was “blah blah Greek temple”. . I’ve been rather lax with that lately. I then did a week’ worth of archeoastronomy with the nice people at Coursera; but I couldn’t concentrate on it.
After another episode of “Prison Break” "My Boy TM" came to visit. He was having his mother’s wireless phone charger. It struck me it would be more efficient to take the plug of the wireless charger and stick it into the phone, but what do I know?
With "er indoors TM" off out tonight I fed the dogs then foraged for my own dinner. I foraged in the general direction of KFC and foraged rather successfully. I scoffed KFC whilst watching my DVD of “The Moonbase”; a Doctor Who story first broadcast in 1966. Treacle seemed rather bemused as I sang the theme tune to her.
I shall watch another episode of “Prison Break”, maybe some more archeoastronomy, and then bed. It’s been something of a rubbish day today… I could have done so much more if it hadn’t rained.
Mind you some people spend all day doing nothing like this. What a waste of a day off.