I was sleeping like a log when I woke to the sound of
Morgan crying. He was laying next to me, twitching and shaking, whimpering and
sobbing. He was clearly having a very vivid nightmare. Dogs *really* do
have dreams. I managed to settle him, and I dozed on and off for the rest of
the night, finally getting up just after seven o’clock
I had a look at the internet. The parody site
Newsthump had had its TikTok account permanently deleted
as the AI running the site didn’t understand parody. Apparently other satirical
sites such as the Daily Mash and Waterford Whispers have the same problem.
AI still has a lot to learn.
And there was a minor squabble on the Kent Weather
Forecasts Facebook page. The chap who runs the page had the hump because people
were pointing out that his forecasts were at odds with other forecasts, The
chap was ranting about how all the weather forecasters have the same data, but
the data is open to interpretations.
Well…
No it’s not. If you’ve got accurate scientific data
then that’s the end of it. If there’s multiple possible meanings for that data
then your means of interpreting that data is fundamentally wrong. Isn’t it?
Despite the iffy weather forecast from Kent Weather
Forecasts and the BBC (and the not-too-bad one from the Met Office) I
took the dogs out. As we drove Robert
Jenrick was being interviewed by the pundits on the radio.
Like most politicians this chap seems to have an eye out for the main chance
and has variously been in charge of housing and health when in government, and
was shadow chancellor of the exchequer until he threw it all in and jumped on
the Reform UK bandwagon. Listening to him was worrying; he summed up the very
reason why I’m worried about Reform UK. He didn’t say that the country needs
Reform UK; he said that the country needs Nigel Farage. And there’s Reform UK
in a nutshell. It is a cult.
We got to the woods where the rain had given way to a
foggy drizzle. Being earlier than usual we had a good normal-people-free walk.
We mostly stuck to the wider paths and avoided the worst of the mud, it was
only on the last half-mile that we saw anyone else.
We came home for a bath. I put a load of washing in to
scrub, and with “er indoors TM” having
an office day I made myself a cuppa then had a look in the fridge. I was under
orders to chuck out the cheesecake that had been left in the fridge since last
week and forgotten about. It didn’t smell *that* bad so I scoffed it.
I wrote up some
CPD, then did the ironing whilst watching the last
episodes of “Harlots” which was a rather good series. I emptied the
washing machine (and set the dishwasher going) and ironed the shirts
whilst they were wet and then started something new on Netflix. “Boots” tells the tale of a young gay lad
who enlisted into the American Marines. It was billed as a comedy, but wasn’t
actually that funny. Rather engaging… but not actually funny. I emptied the
dishwasher. I ran round with the Hoover. I did the bins. I worried about
Treacle who wanted to go into the garden where she ate grass for fifteen
minutes.
I checked my emails just in case any of the trainees
had sent me more portfolio work to assess. It’s only fair on them to give them
feedback whilst what they’ve written is fresh in their minds. And there was
something for me to look at – a dissertation on the ESR. The erythrocyte
sedimentation rate is an absolutely wonderful blood test. I’ve gone into detail about it somewhere else.
“er indoors TM” came
home and sorted us a rather good chili which we scoffed whilst watching this
week’s episodes of “The Traitors: Ireland” in which the chap I really
didn’t like finally got the heave-ho.
I’m still in two minds as to whether I should apply
for the next series of the UK version of the show…
