With an alarm set, all hopes of a good night’s sleep went out the window. I woke at ten past one feeling raring to go, and then lay awake for much of the rest of the night stroking Fudge’s bony back.
I got up and seeing how today was the first of the month I allowed myself the privilege of a new razor blade. I’m a tad mean with the things and make them last a month each. They seem to do OK to the end of each month, but there is no denying that the morning scrape feels better at the start of the month than at the end.
As Sid snored I watched an episode of “Superstore” whilst my COVID-19 test cooked. It was negative, which was probably for the best.
As I then had my morning’s perusal of the Internet I realised that the appeal I set up for the goat sanctuary had raised two hundred and ten pounds. I was rather impressed. When I first read the message from Facebook about setting up a birthday fundraiser I was rather sceptical about the idea, but I’m glad I did, and grateful to everyone who contributed.
I sent out some birthday messages. Two were advertised on Facebook; one wasn’t. The one whose birthday wasn’t advertised on Facebook was an old schoolfriend of mine. Of all the people with whom I am in touch (albeit intermittently) this chap is the person I’ve known longest who isn’t family. I first met him on my first day at primary school fifty-two years ago. We were in the Boys Brigade together for years, and after years working in banking he jacked it all in to become a minister in the Baptist Church. I can’t help but wonder if he hadn’t put his birthday on Facebook so that his flock wouldn’t find out – what is the etiquette for a vicar’s birthday?
And so I set off to work… I’ve just had a week off work. I worked on my nineteenth birthday in 1983 and it sucked, and I’ve taken the week of my birthday as leave every year since. And for the next thirty-four years (up until 2017) I felt physically sick at the thought of going back to work. But today – I’m looking forward to catching up with people. There isn’t one person that I would want to avoid.
As I drove up the motorway I listened to the radio. I've not heard the news for a week, and I'd not missed much. The vaccines minister was being interviewed this morning, and he managed to avoid actually saying anything in any answer he gave.
There was then an interview with Sandi Toksvig (who is always interesting). She is currently championing a scheme in which children have the subtitles on when they are watching telly. They subconsciously read the subtitles, during the course of a year they effectively read the equivalent of the "Narnia" series of books and the entirety of the "Lord of the Rings" books without realising they have done so. This also (obviously) massively increases their literacy, which is never a bad thing.
I got to work where we had cake. But not just any old cake. A colleague's friend is starting up a cake-making business and is trying to get her name put about. I was rather impressed with the cake; so much so that I didn't dare be the one to cut it.
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