13 December 2024 (Friday) - Another Lazy Day

I woke to the sound of “er indoors TM’s alarm. “er indoors TM didn’t though so I prodded her a few times to no avail. Eventually I realized I was prodding Bailey.
 
I got up and opened the next window of today’s Advent Calendar, if only to give the voices in my head something to ponder whilst I scoffed brekkie.
As I set about my toast there was quite the argument on one of the Facebook travel pages that I follow when some woman was furious that he M25 motorway was open today. Apparently some pedestrian got killed on the motorway yesterday, and this idiot woman felt the motorway should be closed today as a sign of respect.
Someone else posted to another group about what a boring fellow her neighbour was as he had taken up calligraphy (posh handwriting) and for want of anything better to copy, was copying out the Bible. Someone was banging on about how they did that at school and he’d copied out psalm 119 which turned out to be the favourite psalm of quite a few people commenting on that Facebook post. For those of my loyal readers who aren’t among the righteous, psalm 119 sings the praises of being a do-gooder. I was tempted to ask where these people stood on psalm 137 which states “Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks” (look it up!) but thought better of doing so. Most so-called Christians get rather upset when you show them that they haven’t actually read their bibles.
 
I got the dogs into the car and we set off to the woods. As we drove Desert Island Discs was on the radio. Today’s castaway was Ebony Rainford-Brent. No – I’d never heard of her either. It turns out that she was the first black woman to play for the England women’s cricket team. She seemed a rather interesting person. I quite like listening to Desert Island Discs as I’m a very nosey person and there’s quite a bit about people’s lives on the show. It’s just a shame that nearly all of those interviewed either pretend to like one of three types of music; pretentious classical rubbish, operatic howling, or frankly dire dirges.
 
We got to the woods and had a good walk. Yesterday I mentioned how quiet the place was. It wasn’t quite so quiet today. As we walked we met another group of dog walkers who were very quick to tell me that the brown spaniel in their group wasn’t their dog at all. Clearly they hoped that dog was with me. The dog seemed to be quite happy walking with them though. Half a mile on, just at the point where we occasionally see deer I could hear a whistling and some shouting. That brown spaniel’s daddy wasn’t happy. And was even less happy when I told him the dog was half a mile away and going in the wrong direction.
Needless to say that what with all the racket he was making we didn’t see any deer today. Not even the dead one – the carcass had gone. Had the ranger cleared it away?
As we got close to the car park so we walked up to the car with a professional dog walker. And as we got to the car so Mabel’s mummy drove up. I opened my car’s boot and announced “Boot Dogs”. Both Morgan and Treacle jumped in the boot to the amazement of the onlookers. I get rather smug when they do as they are told. I told them that Bailey is too small to jump as I loaded her in.
 
We came home to have tummies washed. For once no one had rolled in muck, and it wasn’t long before all three dogs were snoring. I wrote up some CPD, then pondered today’s Advent story before spending the afternoon watching episodes of “Four in a Bed”. This afternoon a particularly porky young lady and her even chubbier father delighted in finding petty fault with all the other establishments in the competition, and then pulled out in a strop when it became clear that for all their faults everywhere else was streets ahead of what they were offering.
 
“er indoors TM set off to see her dad (what with it being his birthday). I didn’t go. More and more Treacle is proving too noisy to be left unsupervised. Instead I had a shower and settled myself in front of the telly for another telly-thon. I started off with Downton Abbey in which the footman James was caught in flagrante with Lady Anstruther (and they were doing the dirty deed too).  And then we had the cliffhanger of the second season of “The Empress” in which the Emperor went off to battle in the Second Italian War of Independence. Hardly a cliffhanger though as Wikipedia tells us the chap was still alive fifty years later.
 
In between telly I dishwashered and laundried. I didn’t spend the entire afternoon and evening watching telly.  
Just most of it. Being semi-retired was all very well in the summer when I had stuff to do in the garden. It is becoming rather dull right now.

No comments:

Post a Comment