After a rather good night’s sleep I came downstairs to see
Fudge laying on the floor. I fussed him a little, but that disturbed him so I
left him dozing.
I put some honey on to some toast (which was rather good)
and scoffed it whilst peering into the Internet. I was rather disappointed to
see that very little had happened in cyberspace overnight, but bearing in mind
that little other than arguments ever seems to happen, that was probably for
the best. I told the world about my seventh choice of film, and sent out some
birthday wishes. Two of the people having birthdays today asked if I would like
to support their charities. I would have done *if* either had nominated
a charity to support. I’m sorry but subsidising a government-funded hospital
isn’t a charitable act. (I’ve done that rant to death many times before).
I had a little look at my emails. Someone claiming to be
called “Sophie” had commented on something I wrote elsewhere last November in which
she showed a complete misunderstanding of the nature of human disease and made
a rather pitiful attempt to peddle her crackpot herbal medicine. Now let’s be
honest, if “herbal medicine” actually worked it wouldn’t be called “herbal
medicine”, it would be called “medicine”.
I marked her comment as spam. Google can sort her out.
Fudge was anxious to go out, so "er indoors TM"
distracted the Terrible Twins and I walked Fudge up to Dan-Dan’s and back
again. With his back playing up, I thought a five-minute outing was plenty. I
then took Pogo and Treacle round the park where the walk went relatively well.
There was a minor incident when Pogo sniffed the bum of one of the “never-walked-before
dogs”. Bearing in mind that (like all of the “never-walked-before dogs”)
this dog was on a lead I felt that we’d got away lightly. But the old bat at
the other end of the lead turned to her mate and started clucking about how
some people just let their dogs off the lead. I suppose she’s got a point. Some
people *do* let their dogs off the leads. That would be me.
With walk walked we came home. I opened the back door and
Fudge led the charge up the garden. The dogs have this thing where they all run
up the garden (all shouting) with Fudge in the lead. If Fudge doesn’t
lead, the other two aren’t interested in going out.
For a dog with serious back issues he ran down the garden
rather speedily and noisily.
I trimmed the lawn’s edges and got the lawn mowed. It was a
shame that the strimmer collapsed half-way through. I say “collapsed”; “snapped
in two” is perhaps a more accurate description. I think I’ve bodged it back
together again. Let’s hope so; what with the queues at B&Q it would be
quicker to get a new one delivered from Amazon than to go round the corner to
the shop.
I had a quick shower, and did a little CPD. As I perused
the intricacies of the Cw blood type (!) I had an email from
Neighbourhood Watch. So far (it has to be said) Neighbourhood Watch has
been something of a disappointment, but today there were reports of a theft of
a motorbike from near a friend’s house. It turned out that this friend’s
doorbell had seen something suspicious in the small hours and had actually
video-ed the theft as it happened (a doorbell – can you believe it!). The
footage has now been squealed to the pigs.
Perhaps that hundred quid spent on a doorbell wasn’t the
waste of money I’d said it was?
And so to work, and by half past eleven the day was
effectively done…
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