Having slept for the last few nights, last night was
something of a disaster. The hot water bottle helped me get to sleep, but
staying asleep was an entirely different matter. Perhaps if Bailey hadn’t spent
quite so much of the night stomping over me? She might be small, but she had
fidget like a thing possessed.
I gave up trying to sleep at half past four, got up,
made toast and watched an episode of “The Young Ones”. For all that I
like the show, it was rather rooted in its time, and jokes about Rumbelows and
catch phrases from adverts from the early eighties don’t really mean much any
more.
The internet was rather quiet at five o’clock this
morning, and so trying not to wake anyone, I got ready for work.
It was cold and dark as I set off, but not as cold as
it has been recently. It was wet though, and as I headed west-wards through the
-hursts and the -dens so the heavy rain gave way to heavy sleet.
As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about Storm Goretti. What a stupid
name for bad weather. Back in the day we just had rain or snow. Nowadays it all
gets a name. For all that we'd had a lot of rain locally it would seem we got
off lightly compared to the rest of the country. Mind you we'd had a *lot*
of rain overnight, and the dark morning meant that I didn't see that the road
was flooded until I was axle deep in the water. Twice. That made me sit up and
take notice.
And there was talk
about council tax. For all that Reform UK got
into power in the county council on the promise of economies, they are putting
up my council tax by four per cent. On the one hand it's probably no more
than any other party has done in the past. On the other hand, they were very
clear that they said that they were the party of economies. I can't pretend to
be a fan of Reform UK or the Brexit Party or UKIP or whatever the Nigel Farage
fan club is called this week, but they were supposed to be a breath
of fresh air to British politics... but having promised the Moon on a
stick they are sadly fast turning out to be the same old piss but just in a
different shaped bottle.
I wonder if this is the beginning of the end for
them. Losing councillors hand over fist
in internal bickering can't be helping them very much. The trouble that Reform
UK has is that (like the Brexit party and UKIP before them) they are
very clear on what they don't stand for but are at best rather vague about what
they do stand for. You'd think that their own councillors would know what they
are about, wouldn't you? Let's be honest, this is *exactly* what went
wrong with Brexit, isn't it? We knew what we didn't want. We had no idea what
we did want though.
I stopped off at Tesco to get some lunch. And while I
was at it I got some bottles of beer. The Timmy Taylor that I got for Christmas
was rather good so I got some more. Or tried to. I picked up a tray of eight
bottles, but the self-service till wouldn't recognize the bar code. The
assistant lounging nearby glanced at me, then carried on fiddling on her phone.
I pressed the "call for assistance" button, and the woman
continued to ignore me until her manager sent her over. She tersely announced
that the bottles were to be bought individually and made to rip them out of the
tray. I told her that if I was buying bottles individually I wouldn't have
those ones. I wanted them in the tray for ease of carrying.
She was not happy about that.
I got in to work and did my bit. As I did I was
told that today was Quitter's
Day. Apparently most people's New Year's Resolutions have
all been abandoned by today. The only one I made was to keep going with the
diet, and so far I've managed to keep it going. Having stood on the scales this
morning and shifted four pounds since Monday, I shall certainly keep going for
now.
“er indoors TM” boiled up fish
and chips which we scoffed whilst watching the third episode of “Junior Bake
Off”. It’s a good show, but the age range is perhaps a bit much; the eldest
contestants at fourteen years old are streets ahead of the smallest ones (which
really isn’t fair).
And then we watched the latest episode of “The Traitors”.
Last night I wondered if one of the contestants had pissed on her chips. She
had. We followed this with “The Traitors Uncloaked”. Have you ever
watched that? Give it a go if only to watch the sequence in which the most
recent characters to get thrown out have a little fireside chat. Watch the
fire. The editing of that bit leaves so much to be desired in that the fire
stars off half-done, then is nearly burned out, then is roaring and clearly
just lit. You’d think the editors would have noticed that.
The show ended by asking for applicants for the next
series. I might see if they would have me.
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