When I went to the loo at three o’clock this morning I saw
all the lights were on next door. She was up late or early. Whichever it was. I
went back to bed.
I got up a few hours later, made toast and had a look at
Facebook and rolled my eyes. Several people weren’t happy this morning. One of
the triumphs of Brexit (!) was that it created an environment in which
all the UK’s immigrant workers didn’t feel comfortable any more and so many
went back home. This left the country with massive shortages in the hospitality
and agriculture sectors. It would seem that as well as the illegal immigrants,
Donald Trump now wants to send home naturalized Americans too. Bearing in mind
that America imports a *lot* of its more intelligent and
highly-skilled workforce this isn’t going to end well. I’m
reminded of my whinging at school about how dull the history lessons were, and
our French teacher telling me that those who don’t learn the lessons of the
past will repeat them for themselves.
Mind you, what is Mr. Trump actually trying to achieve?
Since when has any politician ever acted in the national interest rather than
just doing whatever they can to appease those who are more likely to vote for
them?
And I saw an advert on-line. There’s a “Samhain Pilgrimage” tomorrow –
a five mile walk across the South Downs doing all sorts of hippy things along
the way. And it is only sixty quid a ticket, but if that is a bit much you can
make your payment in smaller amounts. Hippies never used to charge that much
back in the day.
Meanwhile on one of the nerd sites that I follow was one of
the most bitter and acrimonious arguments I’ve ever seen. This one was about
who would win in a fight between a Star Wars death Star and a Star Trek Borg
cube. Oh, people were getting angry…
I suppose people being more worked up about hypothetical
fights between fictional spaceships than they are about innocent people being
deported speaks volumes about why the world is in the state it is in.
Being Saturday we set off to Dog Club. We had quite a few
first-timers along today, and one episode. Some old chap came along with his
dog. He immediately let the dog off the lead and stood and watched it trying to
hump all the other dogs. This happens with dogs. Those getting humped generally
tell the humper off and all is fine. However this dog wouldn’t be told, and the
chap whose dog it was just stood watching. When not humping, this dog was
playing rather roughly and the excitement was winding everyone up.
Morgan got so excited he had his muzzle put on as he is
easily provoked.
After a few minutes this dog walked past his owner who put
it on a lead for a few minutes.
Five minutes later the same dog was causing more problems
and the owner was nowhere to be seen. I managed to catch the dog just as the
owner bumbled round the corner from the next part of the field (he thought
he’d go for a little walk). I marched the dog back to him and he got the
idea. This dog stayed on the lead watching and calming down. With that dog
under control things went back to usual. Which was probably for the best with (at
least) seventeen dogs along today.
“er indoors TM” went off to craft
club. I drove home listening to Steve on the radio. Having totally failed to
guess the lyrics on the way to Dog Club I got the mystery year on the way home.
ELO’s album “Out Of The Blue” and Elvis Presley dying? 1977.
We got home where the dogs had a bath. There was a distinct
whiff of fox poo. And then I set about the ironing. It doesn’t iron itself.
“er indoors TM” came back from
craft club and sorted a ham and pickle roll. Very nice. And then we had another
lazy day. “er indoors TM” practiced what she’d
learned at craft club and I looked at geo-puzzles in the area where we’re going
on holiday next year.
“er indoors TM” announced she was
cold and turned on the fire. Our electric heater fire blows out warm air. At
the first sound of the thing working, Bailey runs and sits in the flow of warm
air. When the thermostat kicks in and turns it off, she goes back to her basket
until it turns on again. The other dogs aren’t at all bothered by it, but
Bailey was up and down like a thing possessed all afternoon.
Over a rather good bit of scoff washed down with a decent
bottle of plonk we watched more “Bake Off”, and having had half of a
decent bottle of plonk I expect I shall spend the evening snoring in front of the
telly.
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