As
I scoffed my toast I looked at Facebook as I do. As well as following the
gossip and the knob jokes, I follow some work-related pages. I find them very
useful. They are invaluable for experience and keeping up to date. But I need
to remember that absolutely anyone can join in and post any old rubbish. I’ve
been following a case study about haemoglobin D-E disease… without going into
too much detail, there is one idiot commenting on the thread who clearly
doesn’t know his arse from a hole in the ground.
Bearing
in mind this page is supposedly for people with post-graduate qualifications in
a very specific line of work, his comments are rather worrying. Imagine your
car’s engine was on fire, and the mechanic telling you that the problem was
with the tyre pressure. Bearing in mind it is not really the done thing to call
someone a f-ckw-t in polite company I asked a question or two. Either it will
show him up or (quite possibly) show
that it is me who is the thick one. Both eventualities have happened before.
Meanwhile
back with the gossip and the knob jokes I saw that my grand-dog Sid has hurt
his eye. I say “Sid has hurt his eye”;
grand-dog Pogo is the prime suspect in this case.
We
got the leads onto the dogs, and we took the dogs for a little walk. As we
walked through Bowen's Field, Treacle did some poop and I picked it up. Fudge
did some poop and I tried to pick it up, but I was too slow. Treacle ate it
before I could stop her. Foul pup!
We
walked on to Viccie Park where we saw Bernie in the distance. I set the dogs on
him. There was a near-episode when a passing normal person thought the dogs
were *really* being set on him, but
he soon realised what was going on.
It
was good to meet up with Bernie; he walked with us on our circuit of the park
and we put the world to rights.
We
came home, and leaving "er indoors TM" to tidy the house I set off to work. Apparently there is mud all over
the leather sofas that she needs to wash off. I'm reliably informed that it is
the same mud that was all over my trousers on Wednesday. That would be the mud
from Treacle. I never wanted a dog... so it is only fair that those who did
want a dog should clear up their mud.
As
I drove to work I had the radio on for a while. Ex Labour leader Ed Milliband
was spouting on saying how much better it is that he can now say what he wants
because he's not leader of a political party any more. He was expounding this
theory that those in public and political life have to watch what they say, and
be very circumspect, tactful and diplomatic.
I
wonder if he's ever heard of President Trump?
When
Mr Milliband finished there was some other stuff on the radio. I've no idea
what it was about; it didn't grip my attention so I turned it off and listened
to my strange choice in music instead.
Mind
you my attention was more on the road than on the radio. As I drove along the
A262 from High Halden to Biddenden there were several near accidents. I say
"accidents"; crashes would
be more accurate. "Accident"
implies "accidental"; these cyclists were seemingly deliberately
driving like idiots. Why do cyclists ride down the very centre of the road with
their heads down, not looking where they are going. Whilst I realise that these
stupid cyclists are in the minority, there are enough of them to seriously
question if the entire lot should be banned. If cyclists are to be on the road,
then each and every one of them needs to be accountable for their actions. So
many times this morning I watched cars swerving to avoid cyclists coming
head-on at them. With some sort of registration plate you would know who to
report for willfully dangerous cycling.
I
was glad to turn off at Biddenden; whatever was attracting the cyclists wasn't
attracting them towards Goudhurst.
I
took a little detour at Lamberhurst for geo-reasons. I'd already taken one
geo-detour to replace one of my missing caches in Great Chart. I spent fifteen
minutes hunting out a couple of caches before going to the hospital canteen.
They had a rather good bit of chili beef for lunch today.
And
having scoffed my chili beef I went in to work. I quite like weekend and night
work in that I can get on and do things in my own way and at my own pace, but
today was rather busier than I'd have had it (given the choice). As I worked friends posted me pictures of
pump clips from the bar, and "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" was texting me about Fermat's last theorem. For all that there is now a
supposed proof, I don't think Fermat himself ever had a proof.
I
was quite worn out when the relief rolled in at nine o'clock.
Rather
than going home I went to Singleton Barn where “Access All Areas” were playing their first gig of the year. Not
getting there till ten o’clock meant I’d missed mist of the first half, but I did
get to sing along to “Mr Blue Sky”.
It was good to see that band again, and to see friends.
Next
time hopefully I’ll be there for the entire performance…
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