I slept like a log right until "er indoors TM"’s alarm went off. And then went off again. I got up and was nearly run over by Fudge sprinting to the back door. Seeing a turd-free floor I chivvied Sid out as well. Fudge was only too keen to get outside, Sid was rather indignant about being turfed out into the rain. He’s a funny dog. He will only ever pee in one particular spot, but that spot is a couple of yards onto the lawn, and he *really* hates getting his paws wet. For all that turds pop out with frustrating regularity, he can hold amazing amounts of pee. Some time passed before he realised he wasn’t going to be allowed back in until he’s done something. He daintily picked his way across a very wet lawn and then peed what seemed to be a couple of gallons before glaring at me and stomping angrily to the back door where Fudge was waiting to go inside.
I made toast, and peered into the Internet. Several friends were complaining about the Leader of the House of Commons Jacob Rees-Mogg. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not defending him in the slightest. From what I’ve seen and heard of him in the news he appears to be an odious little pipsqueak. But what gets me is that for all that Rees-Mogg certainly appears to be undoubtedly a vile and loathsome person with no redeeming features, he has won a legitimate election to be in Parliament, and he got more votes than all the other candidates put together.
Are the opposition parties in such disarray that they really can’t offer up anyone better?
There was mild consternation on the local geocaching Facebook page this morning (the one of which I am still a member). I’d posted a photo of the certificate I’d received earlier in the week and another friend had posted a piccie of hers. These certificates are things given out to people who have attended the Kent Christmas geo-meet and celebrate how much Tupperware we’ve located. Very much a by-us-and-for-us thing, this year they got posted out to those who would have been at the meet had we been allowed to have one. Someone (living on the north Norfolk coast) was whinging that he’d not got a certificate. Facebook groups are not only no substitute for monthly get-togethers, but they also encourage the keyboard warriors who would run a mile rather than say hello to anyone in person.
There were also quite a few posts from people who’ve now packed up for Christmas, and are looking forward to (at least) a two-week break. I’ve still got five more working days before my Christmas break starts (at quarter to four in the afternoon of Christmas Day). But I’m not complaining in the slightest. One of my “memories” that came up on Facebook this morning was of the Christmas jumper day at work from three years ago. Having spent so many years in what was a very toxic environment, it is so good to work somewhere where I don’t lay awake at night feeling physically sick at the prospect of going to work.
An hour and a half after her alarm had woken me, "er indoors TM" emerged from her pit. I shoved a swab up my nose and did my COVID-19 test (negative), cleared the turds from the garden, and settled the dogs, then we went on a little delivering Christmas pressies journey to Hastings. Bearing in mind that they too are now Tier 3, that was allowed by the rules.
And talking of the rules.. We got home to a message from Karl, and we immediately turned on the telly. The Prime Minister was telling the nation that where we live is now subject to Tier 4 restrictions. Which means we can socialise with only one other person that we don’t live with… It does seem odd that those who are still working can come into contact with dozens of people in their workplaces, but only one person outside the workplace. But these are the rules… I shall follow them but I suspect I will be in the minority.
Personally I can’t help but feel that the Prime Minister would command more respect if he didn’t look like he had just been dragged through a hedge backwards.
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