My little dog is
absolutely rubbish at pretending to be asleep. This morning, like
most mornings when I come down early, he made a point of not moving
from where he had spent the night. He watched me with one eye until
he thought that I was looking at him. He then hurriedly closed that
eye. But he gave the game away when I walked near him by lifting his
leg so I could rub his tummy.
The front end which
feigns sleep is always given away by the soppy rear end.
I spent a little while
before 6am this morning scanning documents for a colleague. She
needed some paperwork scanned so she could email it. I have a
scanner, and am glad to be able to help. Everyone was happy.
Scanning took longer than
expected so I didn't have time for an episode of Blake and his ever
diminishing number (he started off with quite a lot of sidekicks,
hangers-on and assorted henchmen you know), so over brekkie I watched
re-runs of "Coogan's Run". I quite like Steve
Coogan's characterisations; Alan Partridge is a particular favourite
of mine.
I set off rather earlier
than usual when working on a Sunday. Regular readers of this drivel
may recall that there was a particular multi-cache which had been
giving me grief over the last few days. And with the ongoing August
cache-a-day challenge I needed to get one cache on my way to work. A
few days ago I had totally failed with this multi. Yesterday I
eventually found the first part, but not the second. Today with a
concerted effort and a cacher's eye after ten minutes of rummaging I
found what I had been looking for.
Mind you, as is so often
the way with this silly hobby, it's not only about finding the
tupperware box. This troublesome multi had taken me to Perry Wood.
This is somewhere I'd never been before, and would probably never
have found if left to my own devices. It's a very scenic place to be,
and is somewhere that I could well take a certain small dog for a
walk in the near future.
As I drove I listened to
the news. Today's news was all a-twitter with revelations that the
Metropolitan Police are investigating fresh evidence concerning the
death of Diana Princess of Wales.
Interestingly no one
seems to know exactly what this new evidence is, or what it proves.
She's been dead sixteen years; why can't the media let her go. What
on Earth is the point in raking up a court case which cost more than
four times the price of Margaret Thatcher's funeral.
Once at work I did my
bit, and then I came home again. As I drove the evening's radio show
was running down the NHS; specifically the 111 helpline. My piss
boiled somewhat. What do people really expect from a phone helpline?
If you are truly ill, go to hospital. If you are going to survive
till the morning, turn up at the GP surgery ten minutes before they
open and demand to be seen. If you just want to talk to someone
(which so many of these 111 calls are all about), that's what
social media is for.
Bearing in mind how quick
the general public are to cast blame and find fault with the NHS is
it really surprising tha the vast majority of 111 operatives want to
cover their own backs by sending their callers to actually see a
doctor there and then?
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