Last night’s night shift was one of the better ones, but I was still glad to see the relief arrive. As I drove home I was glad that I could, and thought I’d probably done the right thing getting petrol last night before work rather than this morning. I’d arrived at the petrol station at Sainsbury’s last night to find eight of the twelve pumps out of action. The chap behind the till told me they weren’t getting enough deliveries to maintain their usual service. Laughingly I asked if this was another benefit of Brexit; with a straight face he told me that he had been told he wasn’t to comment.
As I drove the radio delivered its usual blend of drivel. The pundits on that radio were interviewing the Defence Secretary about the collapse of the Afghan government and the take-over by the Taliban after the withdrawal of all western forces from Afghanistan. The Defence Secretary seemed to feel that having the Taliban in control wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; if they did anything that the western governments didn’t like then they would be sent a stern letter(!)
There was an attempt to make a scandal out of the fact that the Foreign Secretary had been on holiday last week, but those being interviewed on the matter were adamant the chap had spent most of his holiday in his hotel room on the phone to all sorts of people. I can’t help but wonder what that was all about. If he is going to carry on doing work-related stuff, why go on holiday? I can’t say I’m a fan of him, but demonstrably he’s the best option for the job that we have at the moment (come on Sir Kier – sort it out!). And like anyone in any job he is entitled to a holiday. Doesn’t he have deputies to step up whilst he’s away? There will always be some crisis or other going on – are we saying that senior ministers can’t ever have a day off?
I came home to find the front door locked and everyone asleep. The noise of my unlocking the front door woke the dogs. Apparently it was my fault that “er indoors TM” hadn’t set her alarm. I didn’t quibble; I just took the blame. Life is easier that way.
I went to bed; after three hours asleep (despite the best efforts of Pogo and Treacle) I woke, and we all walked up to the park and home through the co-op field. We had a good walk, we played “ball” in the co-op field, and despite seeing several other dogs we didn’t have a single “episode” at all.
With walk walked I had a late brekkie and peered at the Internet as I scoffed toast. The porn-monger who had been peddling filth (with Facebook’s blessing) yesterday was no longer doing so. Perhaps the Facebook Feds had taken a moral stance after all? Mind you Facebook were running adverts for rather saucy bras today, so whatever moral stance they might have taken didn’t last very long at all.
I spent a little while doing the ironing whilst watching several episodes of “Four In A Bed” in which utterly unlike Bed & Breakfast establishments went up against each other. As is often the case, the winners were those who offered pretty much the same services as everyone else, but at half the price. The take-home message of this show is that if you are planning a few days away in a B&B, it pays to shop around.
After this finished I dozed in front of the telly cuddling dogs until “er indoors TM” boiled up a rather good curry which we washed down with an overpriced bottle of French wine. And with curry scoffed I finished the plonk with some cheese. The dogs had cheese biscuits and seemed happy. Back in the day I would have shared the cheese with the dogs, but I can’t help but wonder if too much cheese contributed to poor Fudge’s illness.
As we scoffed we watched another episode of “Lego Masters: Australia”. Have you ever seen any of the “Lego Masters” programmes? They are rather impressive…
I’m really tired…
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