The day started off with a potentially
disastrous misunderstanding. "er indoors TM" phone
rang. When she answered it the voice at the other end sounded like my mother in
law. I heard the phrase “Frank’s gone”
and immediately assumed my father in law had died. He’s been ill recently; he’s
currently in hospital with serious lung problems. Just as I was pondering on
how to break the news to the fruits of my loin "er indoors TM"
ended the call. She didn’t seem that fussed that her step-father had died; if
anything she seemed mildly pissed off.
It turned out Frank hadn’t died. It wasn’t her
mother on the phone at all. It was my daughter in law saying “brakes gone”. The brakes had failed on
the car she bought only a week ago (for
several thousand pounds).
Once I’d figured out what was going on I had
something of a sense of relief. Whilst there was a major disaster going on, it
wasn’t my disaster.
Once I’d scoffed brekkie I took both
dogs for a walk. I had this theory that seeing how it wasn’t dark we might walk
round the park where the dogs could go off the leads and not be continually
tangling me.
As we walked I got beeped. A rather foxy
young lady was frantically waving and smiling at me from a black mini. I wonder
who she was?
Once at Bowens Field I let both dogs off the
lead. "Furry Face TM" immediately did his own
thing; "Furry Shark TM" rather clung to me for the
entire walk. I was rather reminded of many outings with the cubs where
thirty-odd boys and girls would have the option to play and do their own things
whilst one or two “special” ones
would cling like a second shadow. "Furry Shark TM"
also doesn’t seem to have the idea of doing a poop outside either. She baked it
until we were home; but at least it was unloaded in the garden.
I settled both dogs and set off to work.
As I drove to work "Women's Hour"
was on the radio. The aggressive harridans on the show were banging on about
the advantages of vitamin D supplements which should be taken by "young children, expectant and breastfeeding
mothers and the over sixty-fives". When the woman expounding this
theory announced that this included pretty much all of the radio four listeners
I rather took offence. The women presenting this show (and interviewed on it) seem to hold men in such contempt.
I stopped off at the Chartham business
park where I bought a couple of packets of hooks, a few weights, a couple of
bobbins and two bags of bait. I had estimated a cost of fifteen to twenty quid;
I was shocked to find it came to nearly fifty quid. So much so that I had to go into the garden
centre for a cup of coffee and a slice of cake to calm my nerves. Fishing
tackle isn't as cheap as it used to be when I was a lad.
Whilst in the garden centre I bought a
double-ended elasticated dog lead. Each end attaches to a dog; the middle
attaches to the lead that I hold. I'm of the opinion that I've got to get on
with this puppy; shambolic walks and then sulking like yesterday won't achieve
much. Sorting out the dog walks will.
With a double-ended lead FF can pick up
much of the slack (in more ways than one).
I also stopped off at the
Cheapo-Bargains shop for one last time. I wanted a sandwich box for the fishing
baits I'd just bought. I stood in the queue and waited. And waited. There was
some problem with what the woman at the head of the queue wanted to buy. The
woman on the checkout tannoy-ed for the manager. And tannoy-ed again. And
again. It never occurred to them to deal with all the other customers who were
waiting in the queue which was growing.
After the sixth time of tannoy-ing I
walked out, telling them I wouldn't be back. Which I won't.
And so to work for my last late shift.
There was minor consternation at work as it turned out that one of the
apprentices used to work at McDonalds where he was on several occasions mocked
by Ronald McDonald himself. It would seem that this mocking has left a lot of
anger. I did laugh. Mind you I might have laughed a little more had more than
two people realised this was my last routine shift…
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