13 June 2024 (Thursday) - Rostered Day Off

As I scoffed toast this morning a post on Facebook caught my eye. The famous occultist Aleister Crowley lived in my home town of Hastings… I say “home town”; I moved out in 1984. Apparently Aleister Crowley put a curse on the place. It is claimed that if you have lived in Hastings you can never leave and if you try you will always come back. The only way to truly leave is to take with you a stone with a hole from the beach.
Leaving aside that all curses are bollox, it would explain why so many people I know from the old days have never left it, and now as we are all coming up to retirement why so many are moving back.
This morning’s squabble on the Facebook garden pond forums was about topping up ponds with tap water. There are those who insist that tap water burns fish (because of the chlorine) and rain water is even worse (for no clear reason). If you must top up you pond with either it was being advocated that you should then chuck in loads of chemicals to sort out this manky water, and then loads of other chemicals to offset the first ones. Amazingly the chemicals to make tap water safe come with a hazard warning that it is irritant to eyes and skin.
And my church is having something of a re-launch and they send me an updated certificate of ordination. Did you know I have a church? I’m actually an accredited minister of the Universal Church Triumphant of the Apathetic Agnostic. We believe that there might or might not be a god, but either way we don’t really care. As religious standpoints go, it’s not a bad one.
 
I put the washing into the machine and took the dogs up to the woods. As we walked we saw a herd of deer run across the path in front of us… or I did. The dogs missed it entirely. We walked for three and a half miles without seeing anyone, and then had a “near miss episode” as we walked toward the car park. As we came to the last turning so a red setter came round the corner and said hello to the pups as dogs do. Some woman then came after the dog, shrieked “oh my god oh my god oh my god”, pounced on the dog and dragged it round the corner. As we walked round the corner this woman was standing there shrieking at my dogs to keep their distance if they knew what was good for them. Her mate was desperately clinging to her dog and shrieking “they’re not on leads they’re not on leads they’re not on leads”. My dogs stared at the stupid women as they walked past.
I can’t help but wonder what that was all about.
 
The plan had been to drive to Folkestone to take Pogo home, but Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TMhad developed tonsilitis so Pogey got to stay with us for another day.
So we came home, and whilst the dogs slept I gathered turds, hung out the washing, mowed the lawn, did the ironing and had a healthy lunch of Bombay mix washed down with some Tizer followed by an almond Magnum.
 
Rather than cracking on and doing something else, I had a rather lazy afternoon staring at the telly until “er indoors TM came home. She boiled up sausages and chips and we watched two more episodes of “Race Across the World”. I wonder if Saga do escorted trips across Canada?

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