Treacle dossed down on the other side of the bed last night. I heard “er indoors TM” and her fighting a few times, but slept far better than I have done recently.
I made brekkie and rolled my eyes as I read Facebook. Someone with whom I used to work (and who really does know better) was posting all sorts of factually wrong anti-vaccination crap to Facebook. Why do people do this when they can find out the error of their ways after less than twenty seconds using Google? I suppose the problem is that this would be the same Google they used to find the factually wrong crap in the first place. This woman was trying to tell me about the massive changes that she claimed happen to human red cells in vaccinated people. Presumably she’s forgotten what I look at through a microscope for much of my working day. (if anyone is in any doubt here – the COVID vaccines DO NOT change the shape of your red cells. I look at them every day and would see if they did!)
And then I read about the Community Ownership Fund; one hundred and fifty million quid of taxpayers’ money. It has been set up to help communities take ownership of assets and amenities at risk of closure following the pandemic and will run for four years. One of the first recipients were the good people of Bethersden who’ve been given a quarter of a million quid to re-open their local pub.
I was going to rant about how Bethersden is a village only five miles from home. The average house there costs about twice as much as the average house here in Ashford, I can’t afford to go out on the razz and they are having a pub paid for… but then I remembered a rant I ranted on 25 November 2017 when I was spitting bullets about a local fishery which charged nearly a thousand quid membership per year who got a massive charity bung… purely because they asked for it when no one else did. Very few of these community grants seem to go to the people who deserve or need them; they all seem to go to the people who ask for them. A subtle difference.
I got the dogs onto their leads and we drove down to Orlestone for a walk. As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about how the French authorities have impounded a British trawler for illegally fishing in French waters. Someone or other was being interviewed who was saying how important it was to de-escalate the situation… War with France in my lifetime? I’ve said before that it will happen.
Wars with France aside we had a good walk. Pogo barked at one dog, and another dog barked at us. People who walk their dogs at Orlestone realise this happens and where there would be a load of arse-ache in Viccie Park, we just had laughs and smiles today.
With walk walked both dogs fell fast asleep, and I drove round to the local Sainsburys petrol station where fuel was two pence per litre more expensive than in Aylesford, but not having enough fuel to get to Aylesford rather put paid to that economy. As well as petrol I also got my lunch. Eventually. The silly woman on the till was adamant that I didn't want the sandwich I'd chosen and was insistent that I had the one of her choosing. Eventually I got my way, and then drove up to West Malling. Last night “er indoors TM” had seen a car advertised on the internet which was in a showroom there, and it looked to be what I was after.
I drove up to West Malling where I agreed to let a trainee saleswoman have a go at me (under strict supervision). To be honest she didn't really have to do a lot. She showed me the car I'd seen on-line, we had a test drive, I liked it and said "yes please".
There was endless paperwork to fill in; I rather confused the issue for them though. Having been putting new car money aside for years I only wanted to put half of the cost of the car onto their finance deal. But the paperwork was done in less than an hour. I left them spraying the new car’s upholstery with dirt repellent (dogs, eh!), told them I would be back tomorrow to collect it, and drove off in the general direction of work.
I stopped off on the way to buy a rather humungous box, and once safely in the works car park I started the rather mammoth task of unloading all of my tat out of the car and into the box. I expect much of it will get thrown away when I come to sort it out; have a look in your own car - how much petrol do you waste carrying so much rubbish round with you in your car?
I then had an argument with the bank. I phoned them to tell them that tomorrow there would be a huge payment going out of my account, and could they make a note to allow it to proceed. They said they couldn't, and that I had to phone them within half an hour of my making the transaction tomorrow. I told them that would not be convenient; they didn't care. I told them moving my account to the Nat West wouldn't be convenient either but I would do that too if they didn't buck their ideas up. The chap on the other end of the phone pretended not to understand. I've deliberately gone with a finance company and not my bank as I don't think I will be staying with them for much longer..
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