6 November 2018 (Tuesday) - Another Late Shift

As I had my morning root around the internet I saw something that was rather upsetting. For many years I have been a staunch supporter of the nearby Capralama Farm reindeer centre. There are all sorts of allegations about animal abuse having taken place there. I wonder if there is any truth in this?
I also signed an e-petition about restricting the sale of fireworks. Something needs to be done about them. Back in the day firework were pretty and family-friendly. Now there is nothing to see on the ground-based ones – they are just noisy explosions. Admittedly the rockets can be pretty (the ones that don’t scream as they fly, that is) but having them launched from lager bottles held in the hands of pissed teenagers is hardly a safe way to carry on, is it? Perhaps there *is* something to be said about restricting fireworks to organised displays; if only the fact that organised displays don’t start after ten o’clock at night and go on till after midnight (disturbing us all with the noise of the fireworks and the resultant fire engines and ambulances).
I also had an email. Some French people had found some of my Wherigos and had written a rather extensive “found it” log (not something I do!) but it was all in French. So I called up Google Translate and… Bearing in mind Google has tracked my every movement for years and knows exactly where I go, whatever possessed it to translate from French in to Spanish?

I took the dogs round the park. Again there were no small schoolchildren. (Apparently primary school starts half an hour earlier these days). We had a rather good walk; Fudge wasn’t overly recalcitrant for once. We saw OrangeHead’s posse gathering by the playpark awaiting the arrival of their leader. The dynamics of her posse is quite amusing; her “chunky little friend” hasn’t been part of her gang for some time. The woman with the Scotties who used to be part of a rival gang of walkers has joined her, as has (of today) the bloke with the Red Setter.
As we came home we bumped in to Paul. We had a good chat and put the world to rights.

Bearing in mind the ongoing roadworks on the M20 I left for work rather early. As I drove the radio was playing "Women's Hour". I listened to the program, much as it winds me up. I realise that *some* men are evil creatures, but we're not all bad. It is a shame that those being interviewed on that show don't seem to realise that.
The program started with an expose of the sad plight of young women working in the Houses of Parliament.  Andrea Ledsom was saying how middle-aged male MPs often employ young women for their nefarious entertainment, and was banging on about how there is no human resources department in Westminster to sort this sort of thing out.
Of course there isn't.
MPs employ their staff directly. There is no major employer in the palace of Westminster. That was glossed over by the presenters. Heaven forbid that facts should defend the male menace.
There was also talk in the growth industry of pre-parental counselling in which women pay counsellors good money to talk through whether or not they should try for children. You couldn't make this up! Don't these people have friends or family they could talk to? Why pay some stranger to talk to them about such a personal matter?
Is the show's target audience *really* "Belinda-no-mates"?

I'd set myself a couple of geocaches to try to resuscitate before work. I eventually got to my first target. Google told me I'd got there an hour quicker by not taking the motorway but it was academic anyway. With several "Did Not Find" logs I rather thought I wouldn't find this first target, and I didn't. But I did find the next one. Happy dance.
As I was walking back to my car from this second cache my phone beeped. A message from someone who was unable to find a cache I'd hidden. It seemed obvious that he was in the right place, so I suspected the thing had gone missing. Film pots don't stay put under rocks. They go walkabout. I suggested he might like to feel free to replace it. He replied that he had nothing with which to replace it and seemed surprised that I might suggest he would have.
It sometimes winds me up that so many people are so quick to get entertainment from hunting out film pots under rocks, but so few are prepared to put anything back into the game.​

I drove in to work where (once I finally found somewhere to park) I had a rather good lasagna for dinner. I then got on with work. There was quite a bit to get on with today, and I was glad when the night shift rolled in.

It was a shame the motorway was closed when I came home…

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