Yesterday I mentioned my
little dog wasn’t well. He was subdued, quiet, his tail was down,
and was wouldn’t let me near his tail; it was obviously causing him
great pain. He's had his tail deliberately tucked down between his
legs for several days.
This morning the soppy
little thing was charging around like a thing possessed with no tail
problems at all. No vet for him today (!)
I scoffed brekkie, and
took that dog for a walk. We went out through the park where a small
group of people I didn’t recognise announced “here comes
Fudge.” I have no idea who they were but they seemed pleasant
enough.
We walked round to
Singleton Lake and there I got out my phone and tested my latest
Wheri-project. It’s not finished yet, but what I’ve done so far
seems to work well enough.
As we came home we met up
with a garrulous old biddy. She told me that she one had a Jack
Russell terrier too. I was tempted to say that my dog is not a Jack
Russell but a Patagonian Tripe-Hound but thought better of it. And
having established something in common she then gave me all her news.
Her daughter had a dog and five cats, but her daughter was evicted by
the council and so the cats have gone to live with her sister. (I
couldn’t work out whether the sister was the sister of the old
biddy or of the daughter). Also the old biddy’s daughter has
the hump because the old biddy’s husband won’t buy the daughter’s
children any Christmas or birthday presents because he hates them.
The old biddy asked me
where we were walking. I gave a rather non-committal answer. Much as
I was intrigued by the exploits of her family, there is only so much
time one can devote to nutters. She announced she was going to the
post office in Brookfield. I suggested she was walking in completely
the wrong direction (which she was). She stopped, looked
around, and realised where she was. When she’d left her house she
should have turned right; not left.
Once home I had a cuppa
and set about emptying my letter rack. It’s a job I should do more
regularly really.
Legal and General were
inviting me to join their Over-50s plan. I was rather insulted until
I realised that I now qualify for it.
Legal and General had
also sent me a second letter asking why I hadn’t responded to the
first one.
I found my pay slip; I’d
been wondering what I’d done with that.
I found a letter from the
double glazing people confirming the wrong appointment they’d made
for last week. Had I read that I could have saved them a wasted
journey.
I also found the
agreement from the double glazing people about the new back door. I
suppose I should really keep that somewhere safe… I put it back in
the letter rack.
I found a couple of
letters from the hospital confirming last Monday’s appointment.
I found my latest
mortgage statement. I know it’s peanuts compared to what a lot of
people are paying, but if any of my loyal readers have a spare
suitcase full of used fivers…
I had a letter that the
warranty on my telly was about to expire. Personally I’d rather run
the thing into the ground and then get a new one rather than farting
around having it fixed. Which is odd really because I do the exact
opposite with the washing machine; I pay out each month and when it
goes belly-up the nice man comes out and revives it for another few
months.
I had a letter from
Virgin media. They don’t give up.
There was something from
NHS pensions which I filed. I suppose I should read it really. Much
as I actually do like my job (I rarely mention it these days, but
do), after the ups and downs of the last three years I am
effectively biding my time until retirement.
There were bank
statements. I had a look at them. They could have been better. They
could have been worse.
The doorbell went. The
nice man had come to do the survey for our new back door. The old one
has been leaking for some time and the handle mechanism has broken. I
know Everest aren’t the cheapest, but we’ve gone cheap before and
got what we paid for. The current door is over twenty years old and
was hooky when we got it. I’m hoping the new one will see me out.
The nice surveyor took
about an hour to do his thing. Surveying doors isn’t as
straight-forward as you might think.
I wheri-programmed for a
bit, then set off to sax lesson. I do like the lessons, but they
would go far better if I could get more practice in during the week.
I then spent an hour or
so ironing shirts. I didn't stop today...
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