The night went better than it might have done with
three dogs. I was expecting it to be somewhat akin to the first night of cub
camp, but everyone slept reasonably well. Even if (like
Treacle) Pogo was sucking the duvet.
I got up, had my morning ablutions, and as I sat
down for brekkie, so Fudge came down and sat with me. Treacle and Pogo followed
hot on his heels, and Fudge gave them a look of utter contempt from the height
of the sofa.
As I scoffed my toast I found that I had a friend
request on Facebook this morning. Someone claiming to be called “Jennifer” suggested I might
like to join her WhatsApp group which (so she
claimed) had lots of women in it who wanted me to “do the dirty deed” with them. At the
risk of disappointing Jennifer’s friends, I turned down the offer, and reported
her to the Facebook feds.
Mind you, for all the stuff and nonsense, I do like
Facebook. It is a wonderful way to keep in touch with people and see what they
have been up to. This morning I saw several photos posted by an old
schoolfriend of mine. Over the weekend he had taken part in the National Town
Criers Championships. He did well; he came fourth. But I rolled my eyes in
despair when I realised that this doesn’t actually mean he’s the fourth best in
the country. He’s the fourth best in the Loyal Company of
Town Criers, This bunch should certainly not be confused with
the Ancient and
Honourable Guild of Town Criers who are a
completely different load of town criers.
It never fails to amaze me how people can squabble
and fall out over the most trivial of things. Keeping snakes, flying kites,
fishing, stargazing have all been good for an argument in the past. Now it
seems that town criers have argued enough to set up two rival organisations.
You couldn’t make this up, could you?
With rain forecast well in to the afternoon I decided
to walk the dogs straight after brekkie (when we
usually go out). But three very wet dogs wouldn’t be fun, so I
insisted that they wore coats. Fudge was *not* impressed at having to wear a coat, and immediately went into “statue mode”; when he has a coat
put on, he refuses to move at all. But he eventually realised that he had no
say in the matter.
I took the dogs up to the co-op field, round it and
back home. I wasn’t going to go further today. When we had Pogo last time he
could be problematical with other dogs. We were making improvement with him
when he went back to "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" but that was two months ago, and I wasn’t
going to be messed around in the rain today. Walking three dogs on my own is
hard work; let alone when one is trying to pick fights with everyone and
everything and in the rain too.
The walk
went as well as could be expected. We didn’t meet anyone else (human or
canine) which was probably for the best.
We came
home; getting coats off without getting water everywhere was a mission in
itself. I then put a load of washing in to scrub and fed the fish (with
canine assistance).
I then
spent a few minutes reviewing some e-books on Amazon. Perhaps I was a tad
harsh? The etiquette of posting book reviews certainly seems to be to only say
good things because bad reviews are really damaging to an author but… The first
book in the series can be seen by clicking here. They make a rather
good story, but each book can be read in an hour. Why is the story broken up
into six short books if not in an attempt to maximise profit?
I then wrote up a little more CPD, and then my
phone beeped. I had an email. Because I am a member of the Lego VIP club (anyone can be – it’s free) I’ve been
invited to go to a pop-up Lego store in London where I can buy a limited
edition collectable for only one hundred and ten quid. I have no idea what this
limited edition collectable thing is; that remains a secret. So… by the time
I’ve paid for a train ticket to get there and had a bite to eat, I have the
chance to shell out the best part of a hundred and fifty quid with no idea what
I’m buying.
Much as I like Lego, I declined their kind offer.
With the washing machine having finished I hung out
the washing on my clothes horse, and set off for work.
As I drove to work, Radio Four was broadcasting the
reading of a book. It was about some poor Irish girl trying to escape from the religious
superstitions of her family. It was rather engaging and I found myself rather
caught up in it. It was then followed by a rather interesting article bemoaning
the lack of numeracy that so many people seem to have. Apparently
whilst most people with a credit card can do arithmetic, most have no idea
of how to apply arithmetic. For example imagine that you spent twenty
pounds on a pair of trousers costing nine pounds ninety nine pence and bought a
bar of chocolate too, and received eight pounds fifty in your change. How much
did that chocolate bar cost? The claim was made that most of the credit card
wielding population wouldn't know how to work it out.
That's rather frightening if true.
I took a rather circuitous route to work via
Benenden where I hunted out a roadside geocache. I found the thing, emptied out
all the rain water that was in it, and put it back upside down so it
wouldn't fill with water again. I then went on to work.
With "er indoors TM" off on a beano this evening (and therefore not on cookhouse duty) I thought I'd better get dinner from
the works canteen. I went for the fish pie. It was incredibly good, but where I
was expecting to find fish, there was egg.
How odd.
I did my bit on a rather busy late shift, then came
home. As I drove through a rather dark Goudhurst I saw something which
made me sit up and take notice. There is a house there with its Christmas
decorations already up. I could see the fairy lights on the Christmas Tree. And
it is still October...
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