I rolled my eyes as I peered into the Internet this
morning. I thought last night’s episode of Star Trek was one of the best ones…
judging by the posts on-line it would seem that it wasn’t as popular as I
thought it might have been. I found myself thinking back twenty years when “Star
Trek: Enterprise” was cancelled because the (so-called) – fans slated
the show. After all, who’s going to carry on making a TV show which gets such
bad reviews from its target audience.
I sent out birthday wishes, Munzed, and took the dogs
out. As we drove to the woods the pundits on the radio were in Clacton
interviewing people who were going to vote for either Nigel Farage, Count
Binface or thirty other nobodies. I can only imagine that the interviews
broadcast were done for dramatic effect; I’d never heard such ill-informed
stupidity. People openly admitted they knew nothing of politics or policies but
believed every word that every politician said to them, and most of them said
they would probably vote for the last one they heard from, as that one would be
the one they remembered.
And people say democracy is a good thing.
We got to the woods where we had an episode. I plan
our walks so that we are mostly off of the gravelled tracks. That’s the bits
where horses aren’t supposed to go. As we walked
one of the narrower tracks (well away from the horse areas) so two old
bats on horses came toward us. The one in front was shrieking “two metres,
two metres”. I got the dogs on their leads and dragged the dogs as far
back into the bracken as we could go. As the horses came past so the one in
front looked at us like we were the shit on her shoe. The one at the back
thanked us for getting out of the way. I politely pointed out that horses are
supposed to stick to the gravelled tracks. The one in front started ranting
that she’d paid for her pass (over twenty quid less per year than I pay for
parking), she can ride her horse where she likes, and had I cleared up my
dogs’ poo. I pointed out that her horse was taking a dump right then, and asked
if she’d seen the “no horses” sign. She stormed off shouting that there
was no need for me to be so “unpleasant”.
At least her mate had the good grace to apologize.
We came home listening to Adrian Mole MP3s. Once home
I made us a cuppa which we had with the last of the Rice Crispie cakes. I
sparked up my lap-top and had a look. I was right. There’s places in Kings Wood
where horses can go, and places where they
can’t.
I Wordled from “horse” to “feign” in
three goes… there’s only so many (one) words that start with “fe”
but don’t end in “e”.
I then downloaded the fifth Adrian Mole book in MP3
format, and spent a little while fiddling about with my MP3 sticks. I shifted
all the audiobooks onto another stick so that when I tell it to randomly play
music it won’t randomly play various chapters from audiobooks. Hopefully.
I had a Bombay Bad Boy pot noodle for lunch then set
about solving geo-puzzles. As time wore on I became more and more conscious of
three sets of eyes looking at me. Eventually I stood up and thee dogs jumped
up. I looked at Treacle and she looked back. I opened my mouth a few times
without saying anything. Each time she quivered in excitement. When I finally
said “I’M GOING TO FEED THE FISH” she squealed in excitement as they all
ran to the pond.
There’s so much fuss over some dried rice.
It was as well that we went out; I’d forgotten that
I’d hung washing out earlier.
I then spent an hour fighting with Paintshop Pro
struggling to create today’s piccie showing the paths in the woods where horses
are allowed, and where we had our earlier episode. It wanted to create the text
in such a way that it that would impress graphic designers, but would actually
be unreadable.
“er indoors TM” boiled
up a rather good pasta bake which we scoffed whilst watching an episode of “Bake
Off: The Professionals”. One of the contestants had dyed his hair. In the
previous episode he had greying hair. Suddenly he looked as though he had
rubbed boot polish all over his head. It was embarrassing to watch.
Why can’t people just grow old gracefully?
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