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14 December 2020 (Monday) - Before the Night Shift

Fudge didn’t sleep on the bed last night – he was sulking. Last night he went out for a tiddle just before bed time and came back in carrying half a turkey carcass and looking incredibly pleased with himself. Where did that come from? He wasn’t at all impressed when I took it from him. He was still rather off with me as I scoffed toast this morning, turning his nose up at the crusts.

As I peered into the Internet this morning I saw I had another friend request on Facebook. I wonder who this person is. She has no friends in common with me, claims to live in Copenhagen, and on occasion would seem to run round in the nip. Unlike many of the friend requests I seem to get on Facebook she isn’t actively peddling filth, but yet again I have a friend request on Facebook from someone I don’t know, with whom I have nothing in common, and not only is a nudey lady, but also has no clothes on either. This time I decided against reporting her to the Facebook Feds as it is me who gets in trouble for doing so. To be fair to Diana there are far more photos on her Facebook page of her with clothes than without, but if I don’t take a moral stand, who will.

I also saw an advert on Facebook for “playful lingerie” featuring several young ladies wearing little more than saucy smiles. You really do have to wonder at just how these Facebook anti-smut algorithms work, don’t you?

 

A friend of mine was grumbling on Facebook about the ridiculous COVID-19 restrictions. There is a publican who lives near him who has done a lot to support local musicians. This chap wanted to hold a pre-Christmas ticketed COVID-19-safe live music event. But the local council has said because his primary licence is to serve alcohol and his music licence is secondary, he has to operate as a pub. That means no tickets, people have to buy food to be able to buy anything alcoholic, only one drink per course and people have to leave as soon as they have finished scoffing. Definitely no nursing a single pint through the evening. But *if*  he had been running a licenced music venue with a secondary licence to serve alcohol, he could have put on a ticketed music event where people could have bought as much booze as they wanted and without any food at all.

Where’s the sense in that?

 

I got some excited dogs onto their leads and took them out. Regular readers of this drivel may recall I had a little recce at Hothfield Common last week. It looked good for a walk, so I took the hounds up there today. As we walked we met other dogs and said hello nicely. We had a short walk; we will have longer ones as we explore and figure out where to go. In the meantime I will follow the signposts.

 

I then went up into town to see if the nice people in the mobile phone shop might be able to help with the unlocking of my mobile phone. As I walked round the town I was amazed at the amount of people walking around with either no masks, or masks under their noses. Keeping your mask over your nose is easy – just bend the wire and it stays put. And for those who aren’t wearing face masks – whether they like it or not, it’s the law. Some claim medical exemptions… if they have a respiratory condition preventing them wearing a face covering should they really be out of their house during a global pandemic? 

I got to the mobile phone shop. I walked in… that is I got one foot inside the shop when the nice man in the shop screamed and came running over. What did I want? Did I have an appointment? I explained that I was having trouble unlocking my phone… he didn’t actually say to “f… off” but he clearly didn’t want anything to do with having me in the shop.

I came home and phoned the network provider like the nice man in the shop said. It is all very well having an unlock code, but precisely where do you stick it? After a *lot* of farting about I finally got to the stage of having an unlocked phone. I put in the new Sky card and went through the instructions… the Sky website said my phone was registered but it wasn’t working. It did say to give it time, but I’m not a very patient person. In my line of work, everything is very “immediate” and over forty years of dealing with real-life “red alerts” I’ve become a very “immediate” person.

As I photographed today’s instalment of the Advent adventure so I got a text. The phone circuit of my phone was up and running on the Sky network, albeit with the wrong number. Sky had sent me an email saying the transfer of the phone number would happen tomorrow, so I shall have to wait patiently.

 

I went to bed where I slept patiently for a few hours and woke to find my phone’s mobile data still wasn’t working. After another *lot* of farting about I eventually phone a phone number for Sky which was answered by a human. To be fair to him the chap was incredibly helpful, and after not *quite* so much farting about we established that I didn’t have any APN settings. I didn’t even know there were such wonders as APN setting, let alone that I was lacking them.

Matters were further complicated by finding that inside our house isn’t a particularly good reception area for Sky mobile data, but that is why God made home wi-fi.

 

It is widely claimed that changing mobile phone provider is dead simple – I have found it to be rather stressful… I hope the change of broadband goes easier next week.

I’m off to the night shift now.

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