Last night I spent a
little while planning a geo-walk in September only to get up this
morning to find it clashes with a previously organised event. I
really should pay more attention to what's going on. Before I could
find another date I had a message from Yorkshire from "er
indoors TM" to say that the candle-mongers
were about to set off for civilisation so I spent a few moments
tidying the mess I might (just possibly) have made whilst she
was away. I certainly made a point of again watering that tomato
plant.
I then took "Furry
Face TM" for a llittle walk. We went out
through the co-op field and the plan was to visit "My Boy TM"
to see him, his entourage and his sparkly new water feature. I
suppose two out of three ain't bad; Lacey and Cheryl were up and
about and the water feature looks good. But he was still in bed. I
said not to disturb him. I suppose a lot of people are still in bed
at 8am. Perhaps it really is just me who is up at sparrow-fart every
morning?
On my way to work I
stopped off at the nearby Tesco for petrol. Normally I'd go to
Morrisons in Canterbury, but things were getting low in my tank and I
didn't fancy conking out half way down the motorway. I also got sugar
(as ordered) for "Daddies Little Angel TM"
and then went to Folkestone to see the littlun and his mummy.
It's always good seeing
the fruits on my loin; especially when they can get out of their
pits. Today I went to visit both (at various times) and had a
fifty per cent succes rate.
If only they didn't have
to say the "F" work quite so often we could probably
say twice as much to each other.
I hadn't been there long
when I upset the littlun....
Whilst holding him he was
(as "Daddies Little Angel TM"
so succinctly puts it) "flidding about"; he was
just generally wriggling and struggling and thrashing about as
littuns do. His head bumped mine rather painfully. I told him to
steady on. He turned to look at me with the most accusing stare; and
after a second or two his eyes filled with tears and he sobbed. He
wasn't physically hurt but Granddad had told him off.
He was distraught.
He eventually stopped
sobbing and I cheered him up by throwing him at the ceiling. He likes
that. I then set off to work.
Once there I did my bit,
but my heart wasn't in it today. Don't get me wrong; I've not got a
bad job, but more and more I am coming to the conclusion that since I
took up full time employment for the first time in the summer of 1980
I've really feel that over the intervening years I've done quite
enough work and I am now seriously ready to retire.
A lot of the problem I
have is these night shifts; I actually love them because when on
shifts I work longer sessions, and consequently work fewer of them.
Last week I went back to day shifts for a while and it was the first
time for several months that I actually worked five consecutive days.
I've rather got out of the habit of doing that.
I wonder how I go about
getting early retirement... ?
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