I swapped the up-the-nose CPAP attachment for the full-face-mask
last night and didn’t wake with a sore nose. Rather trivial in the ongoing
coronageddon pandemic, but rather important to me.
As I peered into Facebook this morning I saw that the Rear
Admiral has had a little pressie. Having worked for the same firm for ten years
he’s had a couple of bottles of rather expensive gin and some rather nice
glassware to go with it.
A month or so ago I got a tin badge to celebrate my
thirty-five years in the NHS (three years late), and tomorrow night
everyone will stand on the doorstep and clap. Admittedly at the moment there’s
quite a few freebies flying about for health care workers. Only this week I’ve
been given home-made flapjack, a loaf of bread, some hand-milled flour, several
cups of coffee and unlimited data for my mobile, but that is all from private
individuals and companies. Is all the talk of the nation’s loving the health
care workers being left to others, or are the government going to put their
money where their mouth is.
I then had a look at the local
geocaching page and my piss boiled. People are still paranoid about geocaching
being a route of transmission for the COVID-19 virus. I’m sorry… I’m getting
really angry with all of this. I’m handing samples contaminated with the virus
every day and managing not to drop dead.
Meanwhile when I went to Sainsburys
yesterday not a single trolley was being cleaned between uses, and no end of
people were picking things and putting them back on the shelves despite their
wearing contamination-spreading gloves.
In all the years of geocaching does anyone know of any
cases at all in which someone caught an infectious disease from a geocache?
I took the dogs out for our morning
constitutional. As we came through Bowens Field we met another of these
never-before-walked dogs that are blighting our outings. This one was a rather
large lurcher (about the size of a small bus) which was dragging a small
girl behind it. This small girl clearly had no control over the dog at all, and
she didn't seem at all bothered by that. She was more interested in
hysterically screaming "Go Away - Go Away" at anyone who
ventured within fifty yards of her. Fortunately we managed to keep enough of a
distance so that she didn't become an issue.
As
we walked by the river I saw a a flicker in the water. Six rather large fish.
All about the size of my biggest Koi. I phoned "My Boy TM"
to tell him. I thought they were carp, but he thought they might be chub, as
you wouldn't expect to see carp in that river. But if they were chub, they were
BIG chub.
As we came through the park so the
council's gardeners were doing some serious pruning of trees in one of the more
overgrown bits of the park. I'm really interested to see how that area ends up
bearing in mind they've done rather well with other parts of the park which had
previously been little more than overgrown jungles. Pogo shouted at them; they
ignored him.
Just as we were doing "sit"
prior to crossing a road, OrangeHead came past with one of her associates.
They'd just had a run-in with one of the never-before-walked dogs. I
sympathised, and said that I was glad that it wasn't just me who was having
issues with them. It seems that pretty much all of the people who regularly
walk their dogs round Viccie Park are having problems with never-before-walked
dogs.
Though (to be fair), it isn't the
dogs, the problem is with those who don't walk the dogs from one month to the
next.
I came home to be told that "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" was out of her pit and that I could
deliver her parcel on my way to work. (Her flat has neither letterbox nor
doorbell so deliveries are problematical for her). Now I don't have a PhD
in geography; if I had I might have been able to work out how Margate was on
the way from Ashford to Maidstone. But when the women of the family give
orders, I just salute and say "Yes Ma'am".
It only took an hour to get to the
coast. "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" seemed in fine
form and was pleased to receive her parcel. She was talking about moving to a
new flat. I thought about asking if this one would have a letterbox or a
doorbell but thought better of doing so.
Bearing in mind that although I was on
the way to work, I was then twenty-five miles further away from the place than
when I'd started I didn't hang about in Margate.
I got some petrol, then went into work.
The branch of M&S were offering a meal deal. Sandwich,
crisps and a drink for four quid. Bargain... or it would have been had anyone
told the till about it. To be fair the food was good... just not six quid good.
And, as is so often the way when on the late shift, the day
was effectively all over by mid-day…
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