I had something of an early
night last night. Just as I was nodding off I heard a sniffing. Fudge was by
the side of the bed. I picked him up and we were soon both out for the count
until "er indoors TM" and
the rest of the wolf-pack came to bed at half past two. Pogo then spent much of
the rest of the night stomping about keeping me awake. I eventually nodded off
just before the alarm went off.
Over brekkie
I watched the Christmas episode of "Bottom" (Gold,
Frankenstein and Grrr) then set off to work. It was too early for the usual
news on the radio; instead there was some utter drivel being broadcast about
how farmers try to supplement their meagre incomes at this time of year. There
is nothing more infuriating to me than someone who is demonstrably wealthier
than I am who is banging on about how hard-up they are.
I turned the
radio off and sang along to my frankly terrible choice of music.
With a little
time on my hands I stopped off for McBrekkie. I quite like a sausage and egg
McMuffin. So does the vast majority of Kent police judging by the amount of
police cars in the car park and the amount of coppers stuffing their faces with
McScoff. Far be it from me to advocate organised crime, but if I was a villain
who was planning something nefarious, I'd have a stooge keeping watch on the
Mc-Car-Park to let me know when all the forces of the law were busy feeding
their faces.
Work was work, and having done
my bit I came home to a locked house. "er indoors TM" had gone
shopping and I couldn’t find my keys. I made a quick phone call to work - my
keys were in the lock of my locker. Whoops!
I popped round to borrow the spare from "My Boy TM".
Once finally
home I had something of a doze until "er indoors TM" came home. We
then went to Tesco to get the Christmas food shopping. Tesco wasn’t *quite* as manic as it might have been;
we blew over a hundred quid on food we didn’t really need. But what is Christmas
for, if not to buy satsumas, dates and nuts to throw away in the New Year.
We got the shopping
home; Treacle made a start on the Wensleydale. That dog is getting a bit above
herself. There was minor chaos as Brian and Rachel came round to collect some
bits and bobs. They brought their little girl dog. Both Pogo and Fudge tried to
hump her. They don’t usually do that sort of thing. I pointed out that it wasn’t
the polite thing to do, but my remonstrations fell on deaf ears.
It will soon
be dinner time. I might make a start on the stout…
No comments:
Post a Comment