I
was dead to the world at five o’clock when new-next-door went out. The sound of
their gate always sets Treacle off, and she leapt up woofing at the world. I
wasn’t going to get back to sleep after that, so I got up and scoffed granola (the new best thing in my world) whilst
watching “Orange is the New Black”
which has clearly now got a different writer as the characters are all acting
utterly at odds to their established personalities. Mind you they are still
flopping “them” out, so not
everything has changed.
I
sparked up the Internet and saw I’d been invited to a day out in London in a
month or so. I then had something of a major sulk. Getting to London isn’t
cheap, and one of the many ways in which this life hasn’t panned out quite the
way I’d hoped it might is how I still have to worry about money. Through
Facebook I see that many of the people with whom I went to school are now
multi-millionaires. They could have their chauffeur drive them to London in a
Rolls Royce which they could then throw away and they wouldn’t see the dent in
their petty cash.
Don’t
get me wrong – I’m not poor. I get by. I just want a *lot* more. I’m greedy.
As
I drove to work today’s van which was tail-ending me was from “Orchard Drives and Patios”. As I have
often said, f you are going to drive like an idiot, don’t do it with your
company’s name emblazoned all over your van.
Meanwhile
the pundits on the radio were interviewing our new Foreign Secretary. He's got
the arse that our European partners aren't following the USA in imposing endless
sanctions onto Russia following the recent nerve agent incidents.
What
does he expect? The alleged attack took place on British soil, and in declaring
Brexit the UK has effectively told the EU to go get stuffed. Does the Foreign
Secretary *really* expect the rest of
Europe to do *anything* for the UK,
let alone piss the Russians off?
Mind
you (in my limited experience) he had
no idea what he was doing when he was Health Secretary so why should he be any
better in the Foreign Office?
The
Thought for the Day bit then came on and summed up the entire concept of
religious platitudes. Unlike most people I listen to vicars when they blather because
their non-sequiturs can be hilarious. Most people don't though, and so over the
years and centuries vicars have generally got used to spouting any old drivel
safe in the knowledge that they don't have to make any sense because no one is
actually paying any attention any to them.
The
bishop of Manchester was transmitting from a studio in Exeter. I did wonder
what he was doing in Exeter but I soon found out. He was wittering on about how
he once saw a beggar and wondered if he should ignore this beggar. Conventional
wisdom told him that he shouldn't give to beggars as it only encourages them.
You might have thought that being a bishop he might have some idea about what
the church teaches about charity and compassion, but what do I know? Eventually
the bishop got talking with the beggar and it turned out that both were great
fans of detective fiction. (Personally I
would have thought that a beggar would be begging for money for life's
necessities, not to buy Agatha Christie and Maigre novels but again - what do I
know?) And then in a strange turn of events the beggar disappeared.
And
that was it for the bishop's platitude. Was the disappearing beggar some sort
of "Whodunnit"? Had the
beggar croaked? Was it an act of God? No explanation was given, and it seemed
that no explanation was needed or even sought.
WTF
was that all about?
I
stopped off in Sissinghust for geo-reasons. When I was there back on May 11 I
couldn't find a particular geocache. Today I went straight to it. If nothing
else it brightened up an otherwise dull journey to work. I made rather good
time to work, and once there had a rather busy day. As I worked the vets’
receptionist phoned to tell me the dogs’ tick collars had arrived, so with work
done I drove to the vets to get the collars.
Once
home I took the hounds round the park. As we walked we met a couple of other
dogs with whom we *didn’t* have a
fight.
Usually
Tuesday would be a meeting up with pals night, but by the time we’d got home it
was nearly eight o’clock.
"er indoors TM" boiled up a
rather good curry and we opened a bottle of plonk….
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