I slept reasonably well, despite rather vivid dreams
about two fish ponds that had appeared in what was once my Dad’s back garden.
Why would anyone think I’d go over thirty miles out of my way (and quite a
bit of expense) to create ponds? My subconscious certainly thought I might…
Rain was again forecast for all day, but seeing it was
dry I bolted my toast and took the dogs out. As we drove to the woods the
pundits on the radio were talking about the deputy Prime Minister Angela Rayner
who is facing all
sorts of accusations about the stamp duty that was or
wasn’t paid on a house she either bought or sold. From what I can work out she
was wrongly advised, and has referred the matter to the official investigator
herself. I can’t see what more she can do.
And there was all sorts of talk about “Martha’s Rule”. In theory it is a
good idea and will give patient and families an automatic right to a second
opinion should they want one. In practice a worrying number of patients and
families feel that over twenty years of medical training and experience is
worth nothing when compared to five minutes misunderstanding of a You-Tube
video which had been posted by a half-witted conspiracy theorist.
We took an age to get to the woods. With the holidays
over and the schools back, the idiots at Kent Highways department thought that
today would be the ideal day to cone off half the roads in Ashford.
Once at the woods we walked our usual route. Rain had
been forecast, and it came when we were about half a mile in. We kept going,
and by the two mile point we were completely soaked. Ironically the sun came
out when we had half a mile to go.
My “Map My Walk” app had another funny little
episode. At four miles the screen showed that we’d been walking for one hour
and eighteen minutes. But at that point it loudly announced that my average
speed had been twenty minutes and fifteen seconds per hour… which would have
meant that we should have been walking for two minutes longer than we had (I’ve
got a degree in maths, you know!) A trivial point, but if my phone is
getting that wrong, what else is it ballsing up?
We came home where the dogs had a hot shower to shift
the mud and warm them up, and I put all my wet clothes in the washing machine.
I had a cuppa, and looked at the glorious sunshine outside.
The glorious sunshine lasted for half an hour then it
started hossing down again.
I did the ironing whit watching an episode of “Black
Mirror”; if someone hacks your lap-top and videos you having a crafty
joddrell and then blackmails you, would you go along with their demands? The
episode was rather good, starring him from “The End Of The Fxxxing World”
and him from “Soldier Soldier” who’s been in everything.
The rain eventually stopped so we went into the garden
and did the “Feed The Fish” ritual, then I had a little think. “My Boy TM” gave
me a box which would be ideal as a planter, but there’s nowhere suitable for it
to be. I had a few plants where the thing is at the moment, and they baked in
the constant sunshine.
And then I had a stroke of absolute genius (I have those
from time to time!)
I could paint it up, use off-cuts of wood and leftover trellis to
make a shelf high up inside it, and I could put some spare cobblestones on it.
The whole lot could then go against the fence and I could put garden gnomes on
it; you can never have too many garden gnomes, can you?
I’m keen to do this project on the cheap… not because I’m
mean (which I am) but because I’ve saved so many odds and sods from
other garden projects that they are taking up too much space and need using up.
“er indoors TM” came
home from work and boiled up a very good couple of platefuls of tacos which we
washed down with a bottle of Sainsbury’s Malbec. And we scoffed and guzzled we
watched the latest episode of “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds” which was
very good… even if it was an total rip-off of something from forty-five years
ago.
Once dinner was scoffed I cracked out the port and
cheesy biccies. Both me and the dogs are fans of cheesy biccies….
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