It was with something of a sense of relief that I drove
home this morning. The night shift had kept me busy, my sore throat had got
worse, and the blister on my left heel was particularly painful.
Poor me (!)
As I drove home the ex-Prime Minister David Cameron was in
the news. Apparently he’s turned down the job of running the show when the UK hosts the
big climate change meet-up later this year. He says he’s got other stuff to do
(which he might well have) and he says he feels that someone currently
active in politics should really be in the hot seat. He’s probably right, but I
can understand the current Prime Minister’s thinking. With the world leaders
assembling the UK needs to be represented by someone who isn’t seen as a joke.
Like him or loathe him, as a Prime Minister, like Margaret Thatcher (who I
personally loathed) he commanded respect. Which is more than our two most
recent Prime Ministers have done.
Mind you Mr Cameron must have gone down in the estimation
of many people when one of his security detail left their gun in a toilet. Whoops.
I came home and collected the dogs, and we went out to
Kings Wood for a little walk. But only a little one. The dogs can run off the
leads more easily in Kings Wood, and there are generally less “episodes”.
We had a good walk, if a short one. I found my dodgy heel was far less painful
in wellies than it had been in trainers.
With walk walked we came home. The dogs weren’t that grubby
that they needed a bath, so I just scrubbed myself and went to bed. We had a
little ruckus as Treacle and Pogo wouldn’t settle, They wanted to be on
opposite sides of me; pinning me down. Eventually I persuaded them that I
wasn’t having any of it, and we all got a few hours sleep.
I woke to see that perhaps bathing the dogs might have been
a good idea, and I wrestled the bedspread into the washing machine. It took
some wrestling but I eventually got it in there.
With that scrubbed I put more washing in, and did the
ironing whilst watching more episodes of “Schitt’s Creek”. Half way
through the domestic drudgery Fudge got out of his basket and was sick. I
wonder what that was all about. He then went into the garden, ate a load of
grass, then went back to sleep. As did I once the ironing was done – once I’d
chased all three dogs out of my chair.
"er indoors TM" is boiling up
dinner which we will scoff whilst watching telly. I expect I shall fall asleep.
Again.
And my sore throat and iffy heel haven’t improved as the
day has gone on either…
On the plus side I think I got the bedspread back in place
before "er indoors TM" realised what had happened…
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