I slept for a few hours… there is something profoundly
depressing about waking to the sound of heavy rain. I lay awake for a while
listening to it hammering on the bedroom window.
I got up and made toast. As I scoffed I peered into
the Internet as I do. It would seem that Apple TV have renewed “Foundation” for a fourth season,
and there was a lot of arguments about the show on Facebook. As a visualisation
of Isaac Asimov’s classic books it is crap as the only thing it has in common
with the books are a few of the characters’ names. As a stand-alone TV show it isn’t *that*
bad, but its overriding disadvantage is that it is on Apple TV.
Who watches Apple TV? By the time you’ve spent out on
Sky and Netflix and Paramount Plus there’s only so many streaming platforms you
can waste your money on.
I munzed and wordled and hoped the rain might clear up,
but took no chances and wore wellies to Dog Club. I could tell that winter is
on the way as the wellies came out for the first time.
Steve was on the radio – the Guess the Lyrics
competition was to identify the song which has the lyrics ”These are my
salad days – slowly being eaten away”. No? - Gold by Spandau Ballet – as I
said to Steve arguably their worst song ever.
Dog Club started rather badly for Morgan. To begin
with the emphasis was on playing fetch. Balls were being thrown and retrieved,
and Morgan was crying. He soon perked up when the treats came out though. For
him (and many of his furry friends) Dog Club is “Second Breakfast
Club”, not “Playing Fetch Club”. Despite the rain we had a good time
– fourteen dogs turned up and braved the elements. Sadly the elements got more
harsh as Dog Club wore on, and was torrential as we left. We gave Skye and her
mum a lift home – they’d walked the mile (or so) up to Dog Club in the
drizzle but it wouldn’t be fair to let them walk home in the downpour.
We got home and caught the end of the Mystery Year
competition on the radio. “How Bizarre” and “Killing Me Softly”?
1996.
We had a cuppa. Back in the day we would have had a
cake of some sort with it. Back in the day my blood pressure was three points
off of a stroke. I looked at the geo-map and planned a short little walk for tomorrow,
and then got ready for work. When our work rota came out I’d stuffed up and
hadn’t realised I was working this weekend. I only found my mistake a couple of
days ago when a colleague asked if I might swap my rota-ed shift tomorrow for
this afternoon’s. I can’t say I want to work at the weekends, but if I’ve got
to work at the weekend I mind it a lot less if the rain is hossing down.
I ran down the road through the rain to my car and set
off west-wards. As I drove I carried on listening to Steve on the radio. When I
work at Maidstone on a Saturday late shift the radio reception normally gives
up as I drive past Lenham. Today heading to Tonbridge Wells it lasted as far as
Goudhurst which is over twice as far (twenty-one miles as opposed to ten).
That's odd. And rather than generally fizzling out like it does when I go up
the motorway, the radio cut off rather sharply and was rather abruptly taken
over by Capital Xtra as I crested the rise at Goudhurst church and headed
downhill. Capital Xtra wasn't the same so I turned it off and sang along to
Ivor Biggun for the last ten miles of my trip.
Sadly as I drove so the weather perked up a bit, and I
started my shift with a bit of a sulk. But as the skies clouded over and the
rain started, so I cheered up. That was rather mean of me, wasn't it?
I went in to work and did my bit.
Today’s shift could have gone a lot worse, but I was
still glad to see the night shift arrive.
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