What with work-related disasters I didn’t get to bed
till gone midnight last night, but I didn’t sleep well. I finally nodded off
just before the alarm went off. I made toast and had a look at the Internet.
I’m reluctant to jump on the bashing Donald Trump bandwagon for the simple
reason that I’m not American, but apparently he’s been ranting about transgender mice. What he actually
meant was transgenic mice. Completely different. You’d think someone in his
position would take a little trouble to research what they are ranting about,
and try to avoid making a tit of themselves, wouldn’t you?
I left home rather early to try to avoid the traffic.
As I turned right at the end of the road I very nearly killed an idiot
motorcyclist who overtook as I was turning.
I eventually got out of Ashford; the roads were
mayhem. I got to Folkestone where I collected “Daddies’ Little Angel TM” and Darcie WaaWaa TM”.
Littlun was rather excited and told me we were going to see some piggies.
We were.
Badger’s Hill Farm is the place I took
Darcie the other week only to find they were closed. Having determined they
would be open we went back today. We went there many years ago when grandson
was small and I can remember having a good time. We had a good time today, but
I can remember there being far more animals when we went there last time. My diary from the time mentions llamas and
maras that weren’t there today.
Mind you, we couldn’t really complain as seeing the
animals was free. And because it was free we felt we ought to spend some money
in the café. That wasn’t free. An ice cream for littlun, coffee and cake for
the bigguns gave us precious little change out of twenty quid, and I was asked
how much of a tip I would like to leave them.
A tad cheeky…
I dropped the girls home, then came home, collected
the dogs and took them for a walk rather later than we might usually go.
Bearing in mind we had no time pressures and how muddy Orlestone had been this
week, we went to Kings Wood. We had a good walk. We saw some idiot woman
struggling to control her Alsatian. We’ve seen her before; she always has the
dog on a really short lead and it pulls her all over the place whilst she
shouts swear words at it. We gave them a wide berth.
We also saw a load of deer which Morgan and Bailey
chased for maybe twenty yards before losing interest.
We came home again. No day not at work is complete
without doing the ironing, so I ironed. As I cracked on I watched episodes of “Four
In A Bed”. As always this show didn’t compare like with like. It started
off in a bed and breakfast which looked like it was run by your favourite
auntie. The next place was run by a pair of crackpot vegetarians (complete
with frankly ridiculous beard) who made great show of only serving
vegetarian food, but specialised in eggs (?). The third place was the
sort of place my parents would have frequented many times – a Scottish hotel
specialising in coach parties. And the last place was a restaurant which
offered accommodation which was run by a chap who massively underpaid his
competitors in a shallow attempt to win.
I munzed and wordled rather later than usual, then
checked my emails. Disaster. Regular readers of this drivel will know that the
title picture of this diary changes every few months. The background is always
from photos of places that I’ve been, with the title and a favourite quote. I’m
quite a fan of Jerome K Jerome – have you ever read his books? You should… I
digress.
I make this little piccie using Microsoft publisher.
But Microsoft are discontinuing publisher in the next few months. They told me
that there wasn’t anything I could do in publisher that I couldn’t do in Word
or PowerPoint.
I farted about and made the current piccie using
PowerPoint. Back in the day I was rather good with PowerPoint; I seem to have
forgotten all about it. But what I came up with wasn’t *that* bad for a
first attempt.
And then I had a little realisation… the first piccie
like that featuring as the title of this diary read ”… aged 42 1/2”
As “er indoors TM” boiled
up dinner I put a third load of washing in to scrub. Dinner was rather good; we
scoffed it whilst watching more of “The Traitors US” in which various
wannabes competed for massive amounts of money presumably to pay for their next
face-lifts.
I’ve had a rather busy day. I’m worn out…
No comments:
Post a Comment