A combination of a week of rather long days (what with the motorway closure), disturbed nights and having eaten and drunk far too much yesterday had taken their toll. I slept for ten hours last night. "er indoors TM" is *never* up before me.
Over some toast I peered into the Internet. A couple of days ago I posted up the last instalment of this year’s Advent calendar and there were a lot of kind comments about it. Over the years the thing seems to have developed a life of its own. I do enjoy doing it, but it can be daunting when I open a window and see a boat or a car of some obscure could-be-anything and I wonder just how I can make a story out of it. Fortunately the voices in my head seem to come up trumps for me.
Yesterday I mentioned that ‘d posted a selfie from work. The posting to the official works page had been “liked” over eighty times (including “likes” from senior managers). The posting to my personal page had got over a hundred and thirty reactions.
Quite a few people were already selling unwanted Christmas presents through the Facebook selling pages, and those with political axes to grind were already singing the praises of (or finding fault with) the Prime Minister’s Brexit deal. Bearing in mind that the thing was only announced two days ago (and we had Christmas yesterday) and also bearing in mind the treaty is twice the length of the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy, has anyone read it in full and understood it?
Having seen postings from both sides of the argument it would seem that the deal is the best that could be expected but is (by its very nature) a worse deal than the UK had as a member of the European Union. It bothered me that some people from the “leave” side were surprised to realise this.
We got the dogs onto their new leads and collars and went for a little walk round the park. For all that we are supposedly in Tier 4 there were *loads* of people out walking. We met lots of other dogs, and only had one “episode” and that was when Pogo ran in terror from a bigger dog. One chap walking past with his dog stopped to fuss our dogs and made some comment about how good it was to see all these dogs in the park, as though seeing dogs in the park was some sort of novelty. I formed the distinct impression that he (like so many other dog owners) only took his dog out on holidays and high days.
As we walked round Singleton Lake so Pogo and Treacle chased ducks. Treacle came back dripping wet; I think she fell in the lake. And then we had a moment of sheer panic. Pogo started screaming, and his back leg was sticking out at a very odd angle. At first glance it looked to be broken. I sprinted through the swamp to get to him; he was quite happy to be picked up and didn’t seem bothered when we examined his leg. I carried him for a little, and then we tried him walking. He hobbled for a bit, but soon seemed to forget whatever it was that had given him gyp. Had he twisted his leg chasing a duck? Trodden on a sharp stone? I spent the rest of the walk watching him “like a pork” (to coin a phrase).
We came home for coffee and Christmas cake. I’d got us a good (expensive) cake from Marks and Spencer as a treat.. it was something of a disappointment.
Usually we would be off visiting or having visitors on Boxing Day. But Tier 4 restrictions had put a stop to that. So "er indoors TM" did a Christmas jigsaw whilst I spent the afternoon laying on the sofa watching “Carry On” films that hadn’t stood the test of time. Laying on the sofa was probably a good idea - I wasn’t feeling on top form today. My stomach’s not been right since I scoffed a bag of peanuts from the shop over the road last Sunday.
I watched Carry On until I could stand no more, then had a little look-see at the monthly accounts. I could be a whole lot worse off really…
"er indoors TM" boiled up a very good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching a film. I’d thought that “A Street Cat Named Bob” was going to be a lot more Christmassy that it was, but I’m glad we watched it.
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