"er indoors TM" “came home “quietly” and once she’s stopped crashing
about and fighting with the puppy she spent much of the night being rather
restless. I didn’t dare say a word.
Eventually her alarm went off. I came downstairs leaving
her and the puppy asleep. I found Fudge; he had spent the night on the sofa.
He’s not daft.
Over brekkie I perused the Internet. A new Wherigo had gone
live. I thought about chasing the First to Find until I realised it was in
Eastbourne. Apparently there had been a stabbing locally
overnight.
I would say “that’s worrying” but
that sort of thing happens rather more often than you’d think. The news people
are selective as to what they announce.
As I surfed the net Fudge sat with me on the sofa. We both
watched treacle getting into mischief. She would shove her nose into "er
indoors TM" handbag, or the dustbin, and make off with some
scrap or other. And if no one reacted she would make a point of parading her
trophy until she got a reaction.
I then had a message from the first fruit of my loin. The "My
Boy TM"-mobile
needed to go to the garage and could I give him a lift home after he’d dropped
the car off.
As per instructions I met him at the
garage, and we drove round to the Foundry cafe. A double sausage, double bacon
fry-up was very tasty. We were both impressed by the food, but nowhere near as
impressed as we were with the waitress's ample charms. I can only imagine she
had some super-padded bra or had had extensive surgery; her jubblies were at
least half a dozen sizes too big for her chest.
I then went back to "My Boy TM"
s place for a cuppa and we sat about for a bit whilst I fussed Rolo.
After half an hour I set off in the
general direction of work . I went via three geocaches. I found one after a
rather pretty walk across a meadow. I abandoned the search for the second when
I realised there was nowhere nearby that I could park my car, and I found the
third in a rather iffy bit of scrubland.
Bearing in mind it is the Christmas
weekend I went to Sainsbury's for petrol. I thought it better to have a car
full of the stuff than not. As I filled
the car with fuel I was conscious of a bloke peering through my car's passenger
door window. I asked if I could help him; he ran away. I wonder what that was
all about?
And then I spent half an hour trying to
get out of Sainsbury's car park. I wouldn't have wanted to go shopping there
today.
And pausing only briefly for a McFlurry
I went to work.
Today was the works Christmas buffet. I
scoffed myself silly. And I got an Amazon voucher worth fifteen quid in the
"Secret Santa" draw. I was
well chuffed with that.
I wasn't quite so chuffed with the
amount of work I had to do though. Today was BUSY!! And we had a nasty case in the blood bank just as the day
shift was going home. That always happens on the last full working day before
Christmas.
I found my thoughts going back to the
first Christmases I worked in hospitals and last full working days before
Christmas all those years ago. There was
hardly any work at all back then. We would all go down the pub at 11.30am. Back
then the bosses did what little work there was whilst we drank. We would stagger back to work at about the
time the night shift came in (two hours
early) to deal with the nasty cases, and everyone was happy. Even the
person on the night shift was happy with the arrangement as they knew that what
went around came around and they would be down the pub next time.
I can remember my first one very
vividly. Thursday 24 December 1981;
after drinking what seemed to be my body weight in lager I made my way back to
work where a dozen of us shared a bottle of Johnny Walker and I fell asleep on
the bus home.
Things were better then... and *very* different now.
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