When I went to bed last night I arranged the duvet so we
would all get fair dibs of it overnight. I woke up shivering in the small
hours. I thought about trying to wrestle some of it back, but I would be
fighting a losing battle, and the old adage about letting sleeping dogs lie has
never been more true than at three o’clock in the morning when everyone is
finally quiet. I shivered for a bit.
Over brekkie I
watched another episode of “Prison Break”
then had a quick look at the Internet. A friend of mine who lives in Ohio had posted
something to Facebook which amazed me. An American glassware
manufacturer is giving all of its employees a handgun as a Christmas bonus.
Each person gets to choose exactly what sort of gun they want; apparently “giving employees their
choice of revolver as a gift is part of an effort to promote personal safety
and team building”. I *really* don’t understand how Americans
feel that having everyone walking round with guns makes the world a safer
place.
I set off for work. Bearing in mind just
how bad the journey was yesterday I again got my phone's sat-nav app to have a
look at the journey for me. It said "motorway"
today, and who am I to argue?
As I drove the pundits on the radio were
discussing the Brexit
withdrawal agreement. Bearing in mind the document only came out late last
night and is over five hundred pages long I was amazed at how the people being
interviewed this morning claimed to have studied the document thoroughly. I
challenge anyone to pick up a five-hundred-page document, read the thing
overnight, and be able to discuss the thing with any authority the next
morning. (Go on - download the book
"The
Mote in God's Eye" (one of my favourite reads), read the lot in one
go, then email me the location of Horace Bury's cabin and tell me who Angus and
Brigit are. I'll give you till tomorrow morning... bet you can't do it...)
As I drove it was announced that the Northern Ireland
secretary had resigned over the Brexit agreement. At tea break I saw that the
Brexit secretary had also resigned. (Mind
you he was a twit - he was on the news last week claiming to have had no idea
of the importance of the port of Dover). By lunchtime the Work and Pensions
secretary had also thrown in the sponge. And by mid-afternoon there were calls
for the Prime Minister’s resignation.
Looking at the news it amazes me that anyone is surprised
at this. Did *anyone* think it would
go smoothly?
I drove home much easier than I thought I might; once home
I walked the dogs round the block. This is a job which is much easier to write
than do. Leaving aside the mayhem of four dogs, with the new “lighting” used on the streets of South Ashford,
much of the pavements of Francis Road were in utter darkness.
Now that’s not “not
very bright”; that’s “so dark I
couldn’t see my dogs”. I’d send another letter of complaint to the council
if I thought it might achieve anything.
With walk walked I refereed dog feeding time. Fudge then
sat on the sofa with me, and Treacle ran in circles round Pogo who was being vigorously
“gayed-up” by Sid. Sid continued in
this vein until he got too breathless to continue. Fortunately (being a pug) that didn’t take too long.
My phone then beeped. The email I’d been hoping for. A
couple of days ago I’d seen something on eBay of which I liked the look. A “job lot” of Lego. Three kilogrammes of
the stuff including two motors, lights, gears, base plates… It looked like a
rather good “job lot”. In a fit of
idiot enthusiasm I put on a maximum bid of fifty quid secure in the knowledge
that there must be a hundred quid’s worth there and I didn’t have a hope of
winning it. I expected the final price to be about a hundred and twenty to a
hundred and fifty pounds.
This evening I won it for seventeen quid. Result !!
Of course I’ve still got to receive the thing, but the
seller looks to he a hospice so I’m relatively confident they will send the stuff.
A few years ago I had plans to make a 1970s Lego diorama
with buildings and train track and stuff. I think it might be time to start
that project…
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