I slept well last night. I would have slept longer but “er indoors TM”’s phone started having notification buzzes every five minutes from six o’clock onwards.
I got up, had a shave (in a sink which drained afterwards), made toast and had my usual rummage around the Internet. I sent out two birthday wishes, and then had a look at Facebook. There was a rather idiotic argument kicking off on one of the “Doctor Who” related groups about some scientific inaccuracies in the program. One chap was ranting that the intricacies of nuclear physics aren’t exactly as portrayed in an episode from the 1970s. Another was ranting that it was just a TV show and the first chap should get a life. Personally I felt the second chap was in the wrong for being so stupid that he didn’t realise that the first chap was also a thicko too.
And there was a frankly ridiculous squabble on one of the “proper science” Facebook groups about a space-rock thingy that crashed into the north Atlantic a couple of days ago. Described as “half the size of a giraffe” no end of people felt this was a rather stupid description of size, and no end of equally laughable alternative units of measurement were being offered.
I also saw there was a beer festival in Tenterden being advertised for later in the year. I’ve not done a beer festival for years; I was set to organise a mass trip out to it… and then I read the rest of the advert. Live music was an attraction. Oh dear… It’s not that I don’t like live music; I *love* live music when it is done well, however it is rarely done well. It is usually done very badly by people who are nowhere near as good as they think they are, and who turn up the volume to try to compensate for a lack of talent. I’ve heard live music at beer festivals before and with one exception (Dover) it has all been terrible. Live music isn’t supposed to give you a headache.
Rather than walking round the park today I had an idea that we might try Orlestone woods. Orlestone is less than ten minutes from home, we rarely see anyone else on the walk and it is a pretty place to walk. But Orlestone is only any good during the summer months. We avoid it during the winter as the mud is too thick, and it was really muddy today. As we walked we met two other dog owners. One encounter passed off fine, the other was something of a disaster. Three huge dogs came bounding up to Treacle as the dogs’ owners shouted out that all was well because their dogs are friendly. I shouted back that all was not well as Treacle is not. If another dog walks past she is (usually) fine. If another dog comes up slowly to say hello she tolerates it. But if a huge dog (or three) bound up to her and tower over her getting in her face she is terrified. And nips.
The other dogs soon pissed off, and we continued our wallow through the swamps. For some strange reason half of the car park had been roped off. I wonder what that was all about?
We came home and once Treacle had her bath she was soon snoring on the back of the sofa. I set the washing machine loose on laundry, booked a slot at the tip in a couple of weeks’ time and spent half an hour writing up some CPD.
As I played with the blood bank simulator so there was a rattle of the letterbox. Treacle went berserk because the postman had been. He’d delivered the council tax bill for the next year. It wasn’t as bad as I had been expecting, but it has gone up by more than my wages have gone up.
I went to bed for the afternoon and slept for about three hours, then spent an hour or so leading the Hazard Team round a Borg cube in “Star Trek: Elite Force”, then with “er indoors TM” home I smiled at her in the hope of getting some dinner.
I’m off to the night shift in a minute… I need to get petrol on the way. Petrol prices have gone through the roof, but I have a plan. When I come to pay I shall stand at the till and clap. Seeing how the government expected me to take that instead of a pay rise last year, let’s see how much the clapping is worth in real terms, shall we?
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