It was rather nippy when I got up this morning.
Being on an early shift I was up before Sid had shifted his carcass; a
turd-free lino is always a good thing. Leaving him snoring (rather loudly)
I made some toast and scoffed it whilst watching an episode of "Superstore",
then had a little peer into the internet. There was a row kicking off on the
Radio Four Facebook page. People were arguing about the pronunciation of "Tutankhamen".
Staging a written argument about a pronunciation took some doing, but there
were those who were having a good go at it. One chap congratulated the person
who'd started the row, commenting that she had successfully "out-pedant-ed
the pedants", but that was just a red rag to a bull.
Some
people really will squabble about anything.
I set off to work; my car's thermometer said the temperature was six degrees below freezing. That was nippy, but seeing how the temperature hadn't got above freezing since I parked the car yesterday, the windscreen was ice-free. I saw that as something of a result.
As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the radio were interviewing a sheep farmer whose flock was having babies this week. In the snow. That's a tad keen.
I got some petrol, and was soon doing my thing on the early shift. As I worked “er indoors TM” sent a text. Yesterday she'd helped “Daddy’s Little Angel TM” move house and had hired a large van. This morning she took the van back to the garage, and as she was waiting to complete the paperwork so one of the van-hire staff reversed a van into a customer's car. Woops! I was just glad it wasn’t her car.
Work was rather dull today, but was brightened by a Whitby bun at tea time.
I can thoroughly recommend Whitby buns.
With work done I went out to my car to see that its thermometer had registered a rise in temperature. It was now merely zero degrees.
One home I took the dogs round the block. Because it was so cold I insisted Fudge wore a coat. In protest he did his “statue thing” and I dragged him for ten yards before giving up and taking off his coat. He then walked quite happily, even if he did shiver for an hour or so once we’d got home.
The door bell rang. The nice Amazon man had a parcel for me. Jose had sent an early birthday pressie – a box of seventy-one biccies that may well last until Monday.
“er indoors TM” then boiled up a rthaer good curry which we washed down with perhaps the worst bottle of wine I’ve ever had (and that is up against some pretty stiff competition). If ever you are tempted to try a bottle of Jammy Red by Barefoot wines, don’t bother. It tastes like gone-off Haribos.
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