Over brekkie I watched
something new (well new to me); a series called "The
Trip" featuring both Steve Coogan and Rob Bryden. I've
always been a big fan of anything with Steve Coogan; I'm afraid this
was a disappointment.
As I drove to work the
news was all of a-twitter about the profits
being made by British Gas. The pundits were of the opinion that
British Gas should lower its prices as that would be the decent thing
to do. And my piss boiled.
As a card-carrying leftie
during the Margaret Thatcher years I was rather vociferous about
turning public services into profit-making businesses. In retrospect
I backed the losing side. Public-spirited decency was
comprehensively beaten by wanton greed some twenty years ago. It is
now far too late to be bleating about what the power companies should
and should not be doing. They are now there purely to generate a
profit. If anyone feels they should be putting civic duty first....
(takes a deep breath....) there will be an election next
year... ?
Once at work I did my
thing. For no adequately explored reason my heart wasn't in it today.
To be honest it rarely is these days, but today I was more morose
than usual. Silly really; my job's not bad at all really...
I had another dietary
revelation at lunch time. rather than my usual bag of Walkers crisps
I had a bag of Sunbites.
"Sunbites crisps are a whole grain crispy snack that makes a
delicious easy healthy snack option for you during the day. Sunbites
are bursting with 6% ... " blah de blah de blah. I *thought*
they would be an ideal addition to my new diet; but they are only
twelve calories less than my usual bag of Walkers crisps. This
so-called "healthy eating" is rarely what you'd
expect.
Sax practice went
reasonably well; the afternoon dragged a little, but soon enough I
was home and walking "Furry Face TM"
round the park. We had a fun episode with a Red Setter; the Red
Setter made off with Fudge's ball, so this dog's owner offered to
give us his dog's tennis ball in exchange. I explained that Fudge
needs a solid ball as he will eat a tennis ball. This idiot explained
to me how a dog cannot eat a tennis ball, and then his mouth fell
open as Fudge's jaws crushed the tennis ball flat.
We got our ball back...
And
in closing today I'll remind my loyal readers of a blog entry from a
couple of years ago. Two years ago today I went for a walk with my
Ham Street Lover. As we went past Kingsnorth church he told me about
a geocache which was hidden there. He'd been telling me about that
hobby for months; I'd been telling him to get a life for about the
same length of time. Grudgingly I agreed to go look for that
geocache...
In
the next year I found two
thousand two hundred and ninety of the things, and a year ago today I
wrote "I
wonder how many caches I'll find in this next year".
Now a year later I have my answer; it was one thousand four hundred
and sixty eight.
It's
not a bad hobby; it's kept me out of mischief for a couple of years.
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