8 November 2018 (Thursday) - More Dogs Than Sense
I slept reasonably well but again woke far too early. I then lay awake watching the clock, finally nodding off ten minutes before the alarm finally went off.
Over brekkie I had a quick look-see at the Internet. Last night I’d had something of a sulk about my geo-plans having been thwarted; this morning I found I had quite a few messages of support. People are very kind. But what’s done is done and having spat my dummy out I shall continue to sulk in a rather petulant way. Despite being well over fifty I can be as childish as my grandchildren. I shan’t be putting a film pot under that rock or any other in the near future.
Perhaps more worrying was reading that Treacle’s brother Ethan is very ill. He’s eaten a packet of ibuprofen and made himself poorly. Treacle has a habit of eating pretty much everything she shouldn’t as well. I really must keep an eye out for exactly what she is eating.
As I walked to my car I asked my phone if there were any delays on the way to work. It said there were; it estimated my arrival time at five past seven.
I set off on a cold dark morning. The pundits on the radio were talking about an interview with Prince Charles who was discussing how he would approach being King. The chap is nearly seventy years old and he's having to consider a serious career move. I'm fifteen years younger than he is, and I'm hoping for early retirement.
There was also talk about how the Foreign Secretary is going to give a speech in France today, and great show was made of the fact that he is going to give it in French. Isn't that just good manners? Mind you it would be better manners if the French generally accepted that when people had a go at their language they are not going to be able to speak it perfectly and shouldn't pretend not to be able to understand anything other than perfection (not that I've experienced this rudeness from *every single French person I've ever met*...)
I drove through the delays that my phone had warned me about; I got to work at half past seven. I did think that my phone had been rather optimistic in its prediction.
The night shift was pleased to see me roll in. I'd volunteered to cover today's early shift; had I known what it was going to be like I might not have been so keen. It wasn't the best of early shifts. But things improved when the core cover arrived.
I did my bit, and an early start made for an early finish. I managed to run the errand that I didn’t run last night, and once home I quickly ran the dogs round the block. Can you believe there is a house round the corner with their Christmas lights up inside already?
With dogs walked I finished my Coursera course about archeoastronomy. Tonight I learned a valuable fact… when I am out walking I often wonder how far away is the horizon. Now – given a relatively flat landscape, the visible horizon (expressed in kilometres) is approximately the square root of 13h (if h is the height of the observer expressed in metres). Which means that for me the horizon is generally a shade under five kilometres away.
How about that !
"er indoors TM" arrived home a little later than usual. She’s been to Margate to collect a couple of house guests. Sid and Pogo are going to stay with us for a little holiday. That will be nice…