As
I made toast this morning so my phone rang. A little while ago it suddenly
occurred to me that I might not be able to fly off on holiday after next week’s
surgery. How long a gap should there be before having holes drilled in my skull
and flying to Uzbekistan?
It
turned out that the answer is “two weeks” so that’s all right then. It’s
just a shame that the local hospital took so log to get back to me.
I
scoffed toast, steroids and antibiotics and rolled my eyes at the constant
stream of squabbling that filled the Internet this morning. Peter Davidson
appeared in the TV adaptation of the Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy forty
years ago. What could anyone find to argue about in that plain statement of
fact? And there was a seriously bitter argument about religion kicking off on
Facebook’s “Dull Men’s Club” page. Atheists are never going to convince
god-botherers of the futility of sucking up to that which is at best utterly
indifferent. And god-botheres telling atheist that they will burn in hell fire
just get laughed at.
I
got the dogs onto their leads and we went up to the woods. We took a rather
different route to any of our usual walks today; I had something of a
preliminary recce on what might possibly be the “Bailey’s Bimble” series
of geocaches in the New Year.
As
we walked we met one of the normal people who was having an issue with his dog.
My three ran up to get involved, but I called them back and they came back
right away. The poor normal person watched my dogs turn and come back, and he
then shouted at his dog about why it couldn’t do that.
And
we met the school group that goes up to the woods most mornings. They seemed
pleasant enough but it strikes me that the kids would be far better spending
their time at school learning their lessons rather than following their teacher
at a distance of a hundred yards, going as slow as possible and having a
conversation with their mates about Dungeons and Dragons.
We
only walked two and a half miles today (according to my watch) then came
home where I loaded up some of the rubbish from the shed and set off to the
tip. For all that you have to book an appointment with the tip, you can book it
as little as only half an hour into the future.
I
got to the tip and unloaded. As I went from this skip to that skip I was very
conscious of some mad woman walking in circles in the car parking area. As I
walked past her taking a poggered shovel to the metal recycling skip so one of
the tip operatives called out to the mad woman telling her to follow me. As I
walked past her she looked hopefully at me and muttered about how you have to
go up six steps to be able to put things into the metal recycling skip. I had
hands full already. The woman wandered away from me muttering about how she
shouldn’t have to climb steps, and no one was going to make her do so.
Why
do I attract these loonies?
I came home and mowed the lawn, then had a little pootle in the
garden until “er indoors TM” boiled up a cheese
sandwich.
I then had a fiddle about on the Internet. It turned out
we’ve never had a formal booking with the people who own the field we use for Dog
Club, so I sorted that out.
I updated my GSAK map of Kings Wood.
And
then the postman came with the latest copy of Viz.
“er indoors TM” boiled up fish and
chips and we watched a couple more episodes of “Race Across the World”.
I don’t want to tempt fate, but I felt grim this morning; I
think I’m not feeling quite so grim now…
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