21 October 2019 (Monday) - Late Shift
The night went better than it might have done with three dogs. I was expecting it to be somewhat akin to the first night of cub camp, but everyone slept reasonably well. Even if (like Treacle) Pogo was sucking the duvet.
I got up, had my morning ablutions, and as I sat down for brekkie, so Fudge came down and sat with me. Treacle and Pogo followed hot on his heels, and Fudge gave them a look of utter contempt from the height of the sofa.
As I scoffed my toast I found that I had a friend request on Facebook this morning. Someone claiming to be called “Jennifer” suggested I might like to join her WhatsApp group which (so she claimed) had lots of women in it who wanted me to “do the dirty deed” with them. At the risk of disappointing Jennifer’s friends, I turned down the offer, and reported her to the Facebook feds.
Mind you, for all the stuff and nonsense, I do like Facebook. It is a wonderful way to keep in touch with people and see what they have been up to. This morning I saw several photos posted by an old schoolfriend of mine. Over the weekend he had taken part in the National Town Criers Championships. He did well; he came fourth. But I rolled my eyes in despair when I realised that this doesn’t actually mean he’s the fourth best in the country. He’s the fourth best in the Loyal Company of Town Criers, This bunch should certainly not be confused with the Ancient and Honourable Guild of Town Criers who are a completely different load of town criers.
It never fails to amaze me how people can squabble and fall out over the most trivial of things. Keeping snakes, flying kites, fishing, stargazing have all been good for an argument in the past. Now it seems that town criers have argued enough to set up two rival organisations.
You couldn’t make this up, could you?
With rain forecast well in to the afternoon I decided to walk the dogs straight after brekkie (when we usually go out). But three very wet dogs wouldn’t be fun, so I insisted that they wore coats. Fudge was *not* impressed at having to wear a coat, and immediately went into “statue mode”; when he has a coat put on, he refuses to move at all. But he eventually realised that he had no say in the matter.
I took the dogs up to the co-op field, round it and back home. I wasn’t going to go further today. When we had Pogo last time he could be problematical with other dogs. We were making improvement with him when he went back to "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" but that was two months ago, and I wasn’t going to be messed around in the rain today. Walking three dogs on my own is hard work; let alone when one is trying to pick fights with everyone and everything and in the rain too.
The walk went as well as could be expected. We didn’t meet anyone else (human or canine) which was probably for the best.
We came home; getting coats off without getting water everywhere was a mission in itself. I then put a load of washing in to scrub and fed the fish (with canine assistance).
I then spent a few minutes reviewing some e-books on Amazon. Perhaps I was a tad harsh? The etiquette of posting book reviews certainly seems to be to only say good things because bad reviews are really damaging to an author but… The first book in the series can be seen by clicking here. They make a rather good story, but each book can be read in an hour. Why is the story broken up into six short books if not in an attempt to maximise profit?
I then wrote up a little more CPD, and then my phone beeped. I had an email. Because I am a member of the Lego VIP club (anyone can be – it’s free) I’ve been invited to go to a pop-up Lego store in London where I can buy a limited edition collectable for only one hundred and ten quid. I have no idea what this limited edition collectable thing is; that remains a secret. So… by the time I’ve paid for a train ticket to get there and had a bite to eat, I have the chance to shell out the best part of a hundred and fifty quid with no idea what I’m buying.
Much as I like Lego, I declined their kind offer.
With the washing machine having finished I hung out the washing on my clothes horse, and set off for work.
As I drove to work, Radio Four was broadcasting the reading of a book. It was about some poor Irish girl trying to escape from the religious superstitions of her family. It was rather engaging and I found myself rather caught up in it. It was then followed by a rather interesting article bemoaning the lack of numeracy that so many people seem to have. Apparently whilst most people with a credit card can do arithmetic, most have no idea of how to apply arithmetic. For example imagine that you spent twenty pounds on a pair of trousers costing nine pounds ninety nine pence and bought a bar of chocolate too, and received eight pounds fifty in your change. How much did that chocolate bar cost? The claim was made that most of the credit card wielding population wouldn't know how to work it out.
That's rather frightening if true.
I took a rather circuitous route to work via Benenden where I hunted out a roadside geocache. I found the thing, emptied out all the rain water that was in it, and put it back upside down so it wouldn't fill with water again. I then went on to work.
With "er indoors TM" off on a beano this evening (and therefore not on cookhouse duty) I thought I'd better get dinner from the works canteen. I went for the fish pie. It was incredibly good, but where I was expecting to find fish, there was egg.
I did my bit on a rather busy late shift, then came home. As I drove through a rather dark Goudhurst I saw something which made me sit up and take notice. There is a house there with its Christmas decorations already up. I could see the fairy lights on the Christmas Tree. And it is still October...