1 February 2021 (Monday) - And Another Late Shift

I woke feeling full of energy and raring to go only to find it was seven minutes past two. After what seemed to be a pitched battle with Pogo to secure some bed space I finally got back to sleep.

I came downstairs to find Sid had already crapped on the lino so I cleared his turds and left him asleep whilst I had a shave. I came out if the bathroom to find he’d crapped some more. I sighed…

 

After I’d wasted ten minutes trying to find what “er indoors TM” had done with my sandwich box I wrapped today’s lunch in tin foil then peered into the Internet as I scoffed toast. There were a few memes about Monday and going back to work and the weekend being over. One advantage of my seemingly random work pattern is that finding myself often working weekends, I rarely get that “Monday feeling”; in fact having just had a “normal weekend” in that I left work on Friday and went back today was something of a novelty.

 

I drove the dogs over to Great Chart where we had a little walk up to the flood and back again. It was flooded when we last walked there a few weeks ago, and that flood hasn't subsided at all. I'm not complaining though; it seems to be putting people off of walking in the area, which means for a much less stressful walk for us. We only met one other person over there today, and none of the dogs were bothered by her at all.

Mind you Fudge struggles with our Great Chart walk - mentally, not physically. Our standard walks are basically one of two sorts. Either vaguely circular , or linear there-and-back-again. Fudge cannot cope with the linear walks; clearly they mess with his brain. Take today's walk for example. We walked from the village up to the flood where Pogo, Treacle and I turned around and came back again. Fudge stopped at the water's edge. He alternately looked forward into the water and backward watching us going back the way from which we had come. He looked at me with a "WTF are you doing?" expression; he *really* doesn't understand a there-and-back-again walk.

 

We came home; the dogs devoured their brekkie. Getting Fudge to eat takes some doing; the walk worked up an appetite.

I then drove down to Hastings to visit mum. She's now got a hospital bed in her front room. She seemed rather tired and sleepy; I stayed with her for an hour or so, then headed off toward Maidstone.

 

As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about newspapers and social media and the power these things have to influence public opinion. The idea was floated that maybe newspaper publishers and social media platforms might be more public-spirited and socially aware; they might like to report more on fact and less on speculation and fake news. The idea didn't actually get laughed at, but does no-one  realise that the whole point of Facebook and Twitter and the morning newspaper is to make money? It isn't to give a balanced and factual view of today's world. It is to turn a fast buck for the owner. And consequently the more radical and extreme their output, the more the newspapers sell and the more the on-line advertising gets seen.

It has been this way ever since the first ever newspaper was printed.

We've left it rather late to expect impartial coverage, haven't we?

  

I got to work, and half-way through a rather busy shift I got the news that mum has been admitted to the hospice.

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