Much as I'm not keen on
the CPAP machine, it seems to be doing the trick; last night I got an
unprecedented six hours sleep. I woke shortly before 6am, and set the
dishwashed going (a job I forgot to do last night) then
watched a bit of telly. "Life's Too Short"
(featuring Warwick Davies) was rather entertaining, and
"Pramface" shows promise. As I scoffed my toast
"Furry Face TM" helped me with
the crusts. I'm not sure I should be encouraging him to eat crusts,
but he is such a fussy eater that it's good to see him eating
anything.0
The morning's radio news
was interesting. Yesterday I ranted about the poor standard of spoken
English in the local KFC. Today the pundits highlighted the poor
quality of spoken English in immigrant
care workers employed in UK care homes. The elderly, infirm and
vulnerable are struggling to be able to communicate in any way with
those who are supposed to be looking after them. Because the only
people applying to work in care homes are immigrant workers who have
only a cursory grasp of the English language.
Also the local Kentish
health authorities are looking to recruit 500
temporary staff to bolster their overworked staff. Many of these
people will also be immigrant workers. Possibly with poor language
skills too? Who knows?
As I've said before I
can't help but feel that if the media weren't so actively hunting for
honest mistakes and oversights in a very overworked and underpaid
section of society then just perhaps there might be more people
seeking employment in the care industries. Just perhaps there
wouldn't be such a recruitment crisis; perhaps there might be
candidates who *could* make themselves understood.
At lunchtime I had a
saxophone practice; I've been neglecting that lately, so once again I
set up my music stand at the far end of the works car park. My
teacher says I am to play "On Top of Old Smokey" *really*
loudly, so I was giving it full blast when a woman came running
toward me screaming for me to stop. She glared at me, went to the car
next to where I was playing and opened a box in the boot of that car.
She fussed about inside this box and then told me how evil I was
because the noise I'd been making had terrified her cat. Presumably
her cat was in this box; I never actually saw a cat, but I did notice
that all the windows of that car were open an inch or so.
I listened to her ranting
for five minutes, then suggested we called the RSPCA and let them
decide which of us was the villain.
She said nothing more,
but drove off rather promptly.
Once home I took "Furry
Face TM" round the park. Apart from a
minor contretemps with a bulldog our walk was mostly uneventful.
With "er indoors
TM" off candlemongering I watched the
first episode of "Game of Thrones" on my newly
upgraded SkyPlus box. So far it is all swords and tits and precious
little story, but it is still early days...
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