Treacle
spent much of the night coughing. When she wasn’t, she was sneaking into the
bed and then getting rudely hoiked out by me. I don’t mind the dogs *on* the bed,
but I can’t stand them *in* the bed.
When
we finally got up she had a small drink of water, and the coughing stopped...
for a while.
I
made myself some toast, and read an advert on Facebook this morning that blew
my mind. Swap my vote dot com (quite frankly) sums up all
that is wrong with our so-called democracy. Its website is currently broken,
but you can read about it
here. Basically if you live somewhere where the standing candidate has such
a large majority that you can be sure they won’t be voted out, you can “swap
your vote” with someone in another constituency.
The
idea is that… take me for example. A hat stand with a blue rosette would win
any election in Ashford; the Conservative majority is so great. My vote makes
no difference. But where my brother lives in Hastings the current MP has a
majority of less than three hundred. Votes made there can count. So I could
come to an arrangement with a voter in Hastings that I would vote Conservative
and they would vote for whoever I suggested.
You
might think that this would be an idiotic thing to do. It is. But in such a
scenario I would know that my vote had actually counted for once, and the
hypothetical person in Hastings would be happy that they had voted for the
winner.
It
turns out that a *lot* of people don’t really care
who gets in; they just want to have voted for the
winner.
"er indoors TM" refereed the dogs’ breakfasts (it
can get heated), and I then took the dogs round the park. The walk went
rather well I suppose; Pogo was only called “a horrible dog” once.
Personally I think that (on this occasion) he was the injured party. If
some silly woman is going to let her little dog go charging up to other dogs (barking
and shouting), she really can’t complain when the other dogs shout back.
I
came home, set my lap-top doing its weekly update, and watched an episode of “Green
Eggs and Ham”. It was rather fun. I was glad I’d set my lap-top updating whist I
was doing something else and not waiting for it; it took nearly twenty minutes
to sort itself out.
I
set off to work. Usually I'd get shopping and petrol in the Sainsbury's at
Aylesford, but just recently the traffic there has been too much like hard
work. So I went to the Ashford branch today where I very nearly smacked some
silly old fool round the ears. With the entire world to stand in and stare into
space for no good reason, why chose to do so right in the shop's doorway?
I
got razor blades (not cheap!!) and then
drove off up the motorway.
Usually
I find a little adventure for the way to work, but not today. I just went
straight there. Unlike yesterday when I took an age to park, today I parked my
car within seconds of getting there.
I
went into the canteen (as I had time to do so today). Dinner was
good, but I made the mistake of having the spotted dick and custard. It was rather
good, but it sat heavy. It sat heavy for the entire late shift.
And
in closing today, it is now exactly a year since I got my Nectar card. In that
year I’ve accrued four thousand and sixteen Nectar points which is worth twenty
pounds and eight pence. Hardly a life-changing amount, but looking back it is
far better that the Morrisons card I used to use when I worked in Canterbury. I
only got a fiver a year with that.
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