2 March 2022 (Wednesday) - Before the Late Shift

I slept for over nine hours last night; finally waking with backache. I came down to be mobbed by dogs. Pogo seemed in fine form bearing in mind one of his dew claws came off last night. “er indoors ^TM” said he’d been worrying it, and when she looked it came off in her hand.

I made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do every morning. A friend had said yesterday that he was giving up social media for Lent as he found it depressing. Is it? To paraphrase my old music teacher, social media is like a dustbin; you only get out of it that which you put in to it. Too many people use social media as a platform on which to moan; it can be so much more than that.

For example an old friend I’ve known since the late 1970s posted on Facebook this morning. Last night was his daughter’s last night at Air Cadets, and he’d posted several photos of her time in the cadets. It looked like she’d done so much in a few short years. It is a shame that people don’t realise just how much the cadets do, and at so little cost to the parents since much of what they do is subsidised by the Ministry of Defence. I can remember talking to a cadet leader when I was a leader in the Boys Brigade many years ago. His cadets had been offered a week-long summer camp on a military base featuring flying in planes, shooting on rifle ranges, going on military assault and obstacle courses. Our week-long summer camp featured whatever we could improvise in a farmer’s field in Smarden, and both cost the same price.

My old friend (with the daughter) is now employed by the Ministry of Defence to oversee the activities of the cadets. He’s a Wing Commander…

And here’s something of interest that I found from what a friend had posted. My local MP has claimed for his electricity bill, gas bill, water bill, telephone and broadband, and council taxes on his parliamentary expenses. I don’t doubt that doing so is totally legal… but I’ll just make the observation that I can’t claim for mine.

 

I bought three timeshares and another Skyland, redeployed and unleashed four of my five Rovers in readiness for the Munzee Clan War which starts tomorrow.

Seeing the rain had eased off I took the dogs out. A month or so ago Pogo seemed to be going off of the idea of walks, but that silliness has passed, and he now loves going out. Even if we do have to stop for a pee every few steps. He never used to do that. When he was younger he would pee like a fire hose (once!) and that would be it for an hour or so. Nowadays it is a couple of drops every few paces. He learned that from Fudge.

We got to the park, we played ball for a bit, but the recent rains had turned the park into a swamp, and soon both balls were filthy and both dogs were more interested in whichever ball had least mud on it.

 

We headed home sniggering at the young mother and child twenty yards in front of us. Mother was shrieking profanities into her phone, and the child was following behind on a bike. I say “following behind”; “wobbling precariously” would be a better description. He wasn’t the world’s best cyclist, and it didn’t help that his attention was very much on the dogs and not on his bike. Every time he crashed into a parked car, mother went ballistic. However it never once occurred to her to put the phone away and supervise her child.

 

We came home, cleared dog turds from the back garden, loaded up the dishwasher and watched episodes of “Trailer Park Boys” whilst sorting undercrackers until it was time to go to the late shift.

 

I drove up to the co-op to get some lunch. Have you ever been to the co-op in Brookfield Road? Despite the car park *never* having more than two empty spaces, the place rarely has more than two or three people in there. What's that all about?

With utter drivel on the radio I sang along to my frankly amazing choice of music as I crawled up the motorway; you really would think that whoever it is that organises the motorways would have sorted out "Operation Brock" by now, wouldn't you? You never hear about the utterly poggered M20 on the news do you?  And it is worse the further down you go - the A-road it leads to has (literally) miles of lorries queuing to get into Dover and has had for years, but that never gets into the news, does it?

 

I got to the works car park and eventually found somewhere to park; the place was amazingly full today. I phoned my dad (he seems OK)... and that was the day's excitement (such as it was) all over and done with.  I had a busy late shift, there was no cake, I came home... all rather dull really.