As I was lurking round the toaster this morning
"Furry Face TM" waddled past as though he owned the
world. He walked up to the back door and gave me a look of utter contempt as if
to ask why I hadn’t opened it for him. Two seconds later the puppy was also
asking to go out. However there is a fundamental difference in the toilet
activities of the two dogs. Fudge asks to go out *before* he takes a dump on the carpet.
Admittedly this is only the second turd I’ve
had to clear up this week, but still it is two too many.
As I scoffed my toast I sparked up my lap-top
and started off the process to delete my KnowHow cloud account. In theory it
seemed like a good idea; the stuff on my laptop would be automatically backed
up to a cloud drive in case of catastrophic failure. However in practice I
already post photo albums to Facebook, and anything I do want backed up (there isn’t much) I email to my desktop
or save on my Google drive. The Google drive is free whereas the KnowHow thing
isn’t.
I suspect that deleting this KnowHow cloud
thing won’t be easy.
I also saw that I had another scamming email;
this one purported to be from one Marija Plavec who wrote… well, to be honest
she wrote incomprehensible gibberish. There was some sob story about an uncle
poisoning her father and an inheritance of six million pounds. The thing was
written in terrible English; someone had obviously written in in another
language and but into a semblance of English by Google Translate. I suppose
people still fall for these scams or they wouldn’t do them.
The plan for today was originally a day’s
fishing but the forecast torrential rain (giving
way to snow later) put me off of that idea. It has rained hard on our last
three fishing trips and we’ve had enough of it. Better a fine weather fisherman
than a wet weather w…
Instead I had a morning of “Dad’s Taxi”. First of all it was "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM"’s turn; I took her and Sid to the vet as
Sid had a dentist appointment (under
anaesthetic) there. We got to the vet’s, and dropped off Sid. "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" was somewhat distraught to leave him
there; Sid didn’t seem too fussed.
I took the most recent fruit of my loin
home and then drove on to collect the first fruit. My favourite (and only) granddaughter had broken her
bed and I was charged with delivering the wreckage of the bed to the tip. And
whilst I was at it, "My Boy TM" had a load of other
rubbish to take to the tip as well.
We had a good time at the tip; I quite
like the tip for some odd reason. Whilst we were there we met a chap who was
throwing away some folding garden chairs. There was nothing wrong with them
other than that he’d bought some new ones, so I blagged one of them off of him.
I’ve been needing a new fishing chair for ages and this tatty old thing will do
the job perfectly. I wouldn’t want a new chair to get wet or muddy, but I won’t
care about this old chair as it is already mouldy and muddy.
From the tip we went to the Kiln Café as
it was only down the road. Having researched fry-ups I think the Kiln Café does
the best and cheapest local fry-up. It is only a shame that it isn’t in the
most convenient of locations. But it was handy for the tip.
From there we did a circuit of the local
(and not-so-local) fishing tackle
shops. "My Boy TM" got a few bits and bobs, and the
money I saved on blagging a chair from the tip I then squandered on a new
landing net.
Whilst we were out and about we also
bought favourite (and only)
granddaughter a new bed. We felt we should as that was the official reason that
we were out and about.
I took "My Boy TM"
home. I offered to help put the bed together but as he rightly said, he needed
to check with Cheryl and Lacey that the bed was the right one. We both knew
that it was, but if we’d put it together it would need to go back to the shop.
If we *didn’t* put it together it
would be the right one and he could then be in trouble for not putting it
together.
I came home, and took the dogs for a
very quick walk round the block. We didn’t go far; the forecast rain had
started as we’d left the café and got heavier as the morning wore on. By the
time we got home from our short walk it was rather heavy.
I
skipped lunch; a fry-up does me for the entire day. As the dogs played “tug” with the remains of an old
teddy-bear I et about the ironing whilst “Little
Shop of Horrors” played on the DVD. Feed Me Seymour !!
With ironing and DVD done I found myself
dozing on the sofa with my dogs, and all too soon it was time to pick up "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" and go to collect Sid. The vet had said
that she was going to have to extract some teeth, but couldn’t put an exact
number on it until such time as she had him gassed and could have a proper look
inside his mouth. I suppose that’s a fair assessment of the situation – have
you ever tried to look inside the mouth of a dog that doesn’t want anyone
looking inside his gob?
In retrospect "Daddy’s Little
Angel TM" did the right thing by going to the vet in
Willesborough. Our usual vet had quoted ninety quid per tooth; the
Willesborough vet said she’s do a job-lot for three hundred and sixty quid. In
the end poor Sid had nineteen teeth pulled. He’s only got seven left. Mind you
he seemed chirpy enough when we collected him.
I dropped him and "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" off, and I drove on to “Pets at Home” where my piss boiled. I
walked into the place at half past six; at quarter to seven the staff were
still gossiping round the till. If it wasn’t for the fact that there is no
other fish shop within a convenient distance of home I would have walked out.
Eventually I got served but on hearing I wanted fish, the assistant had to go
to get his tablet and enter in all my details to check I was a suitable person
to own a goldfish. I was getting a little impatient and asked how long they’d
been doing this charade. The chap got quite supercilious with me and said it
was a long-standing policy; fish are living things. I told him no one had gone
through such a rigmarole two weeks previously. He replied that I must have had
a negligent assistant, and he didn’t bat an eyelid when I told him that it was
him who’s served me at the time.
I don’t mind having my details checked;
I *do* mind the attitude and lies of
the shop staff.
I came out of the shop some twenty five
minutes after I’d gone in to find half an inch of snow on the roads and an inch
of snow on my car. We’ve not had snow for years. Fudge doesn’t like it very
much. I wonder what the puppy makes of it…
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