21 May 2019 (Tuesday) - Late Shift
I was rather worried that my lap-top would never start this morning. Last night I’d told it to do an update, and this morning it took an absolute age to get going, and it is now noticeably slower in every way. This *really* sums up any kind of I.T. upgrade. The software may well be doing amazing things in the background, but in the foreground the hardware is actually less able to do the job.
I eventually got the thing working and had a look at the Internet. A lot of people were grumbling about the last episode of “Game of Thrones”. Working on the principle that people have (probably) had long enough to see the episode it strikes me as rather odd that the one who came out on top was the one who was dropped from an entire season as his character was so boring.
I had a little look at the geo-map to see if there were any potential geo-resuscitations that might not be too far off of my way to work today. I saw there was one or two.
I then took the dogs round the park. Pogo amazed me. I was expecting the worst after his little altercation yesterday, but he was fine. He sniffed other dogs nicely, and even played with one or two. There were no scraps at all. Having Pogo sit to have his lead put on and taken off, and when crossing roads, and to watch big dogs go by seems to be working.
As we came home we met an ex-cub’s mother. One of my ex-cubs is now nearly thirty years old and is running a pub in Cornwall. His mother has acquired (been left with) both of his dogs and the associated vit bills which are currently running at over four thousand pounds.
We came home. I’d had an election communication for the upcoming European elections from UKIP. It was an A5-sized piece of paper which said nothing but how UKIP will fight for Brexit. Now it is a simple matter of fact that whoever wins the European elections can have no effect on Brexit whatsoever, so clearly whoever wrote this rubbish is playing on people’s ignorance. It bothers me that people will read this and vote for them; utterly oblivious to the fact that those for whom they have voted are unable to deliver what they have promised. Democracy, eh?
Leaving the dogs fast asleep I drove south. I'd swapped geocaches with Chris a couple of months ago only to find that the one in Park Farm that I'd given him wasn't actually there. It was only fair that I replaced the thing.
I then headed off for that geo-resuscitation I'd spotted earlier. As I drove "Women's Hour" was on the radio. They were talking about bowel cancer; I listened with interest. What with my upcoming appointment at the arse clinic (to say nothing of intermittent blood in the chuff department) I found it was all rather relevant to me.
There was then an article about how difficult it is for a pregnant woman to get a job. Despite there being all sorts of laws and legislation, no one wants to employ someone who is about to go off for months of maternity leave. I was getting ready to shout at the radio (as I do) but amazingly no one pretended to be surprised about this. Mind you, one or two of the panel being interviewed really did try to blame it on Brexit.
I got to Staplehurst; I eventually added another one to my list of geo-resuscitations. And as I was in the area I took a slow drive along the country lanes picking up another four geocaches as I went. One was rather poignant, placed at the spot where Pilot Officer John Kenneth Grahame Clifton's Hurricane P5185 crashed, having been shot down by enemy fire on 1st September 1940. He was only twenty-one years old.
After four geo-finds I realised that time was pushing, so narrowly avoiding pranging the car in Goudhurst I set off in the general direction of work. As I drove I realised that my car's journey trip-meter and predicted miles-of-petrol-left-ometer had reset itself. I wonder what that was all about? I do hope the car's on-board electronics isn't on the way out. I'm desperately hoping I mistakenly pressed the reset button whilst fiddling with the windscreen wipers.
I got to work easily enough, then spent an age trying to park the car. Finding a parking space at mid-day is always tricky.
Being on a late shift I went to the works canteen for lunch. Vegetable lasagne and blackberry tart (with custard) set me up for the late shift.
As late shifts go it wasn't that bad really. Certainly better than some shifts I've had recently. It was only a shame that I finished the shift so late in the day and so far from home. But I'm not complaining; I knew this would be the case when I applied for the job. And I'd far rather be where I am now than where I was (both figuratively and literally).