Many years ago (forty-two) when working as a general dogsbody in the Harbour Restaurant in Hastings' Old Town I once tried to pick up far too many dirty plates (to carry to the dishwasher) and tore something in my back. I compounded the injury on my twenty-eighth birthday by digging my sister-in-law's garden too vigorously, and did further damage to it a few years after that when emptying a heavy tea urn where I used to work. The strangest and silliest things can now play on that poggered back... like when Pogo and Treacle suddenly yanked on their leads yesterday. I spent much of last night's night shift unable to move without serious pain. Had I not just been off work for three weeks I would have phoned in sick, but I really didn't like to do so.
Yesterday I whinged that I didn't want to go to work last night; the night shift wasn't bad really. I shouldn't grumble about the night work. I had yesterday at home. A good morning fiddling about with the dogs, and an afternoon sleeping with the dogs. And a night shift in which I had clearly been trusted to get on with the job unsupervised; a level of trust I never really achieved from the micro-managing regime where I used to work.
But it was still with something of a sense of relief that I greeted the early shift when he came in.
I hobbled out to my car and drove home. As I drove I listened to the morning news on the radio for the first time in ages. It was much the same as ever. As I headed toward the motorway there were reports that our old friend science had underestimated the amount of tree species there are on the planet, with nearly ten thousand more species of tree wating to be discovered. I might whinge about my job from time to time, but after the shift I go home. I don’t have to go into the jungle for months at a time trying to tell one tree from another.
The pundits on the radio then wheeled on the deputy prime Minister Dominic Raab who rather embarrassed himself. When questioned about the Prime Minister’s conduct in Parliament yesterday he wasn’t as decisive as he might have been. Having been caught red-handed staging piss-ups in Downing Street the Prime Minister has said that “we got it wrong”. The allegation was made that the use of “we” rather than “I” showed that Mr Johnson was looking to unload blame on someone or other behind the scenes and took no responsibility himself; an allegation that Mr Raab would neither deny nor confirm. And then Mr Raab flatly refused to confirm the Prime Minister’s allegation that the Leader of the Opposition (when he was the director of public prosecutions) was behind a failure to prosecute Jimmy Savile. When questioned, Mr Raab said ““I can’t substantiate that ... I’m certainly not repeating it. I don’t have the facts to justify that.”
I can’t help but feel that the Prime Minister will just ride this latest scandal out; he has a proven track record of being a liar and for many people that is all part of his laddish charm. But I hope he will get his come-uppance. Openly having parties with his cronies whilst some of us sat in the hospice waiting room, so far he has kept himself in power because he is clearly less crap than the alternative. And (it has to be said) up till now the Labour party have done their level best to help him in this regard. But up till now the only alternative than which he is less crap has been the opposition. With today’s news talking of former Tory chair Baroness Warsi who attacked the “false and baseless smears” from the Prime Minister saying they “cannot be defended”, and former Chief Whip Julian Smith saying “The smear made against Keir Starmer relating to Jimmy Saville yesterday is wrong and cannot be defended. It should be withdrawn,” it would seem that just possibly he is now fighting a battle on two fronts.
I hope he falls flat on his face.
I got home to find “er indoors TM” had already gone to work. I went to bed until mid-day, and now have something of a tactic to thwart the dogs. Yesterday afternoon was cold in bed so this morning I took a hot water bottle. The dogs immediately made themselves comfortable on top of it, so that is the plan. Put the hottie-bottie on the other side of the bed to decoy the dogs, then get another one for me. Mind you the tactic only works when they want to sleep. I need another plan to counteract Pogo when he decides it is time to get up and he starts clouting me on the head.
I got up to find the postie had been with the latest copy of Viz magazine, and a pin badge I’d won on a competition on Facebook. Some time ago (November 11th) there was a competition on one of the work-based Facebook groups I follow in which a question had been asked about the intricacies of the Kell blood group system. The world was asked to give an answer, and one of the people giving the correct answer would win a pin badge. Having absolutely no idea what the correct answer was I looked through what everyone else had said and copied the most popular one. Now the pin badge is here I have to say I’m sorry I bothered with the competition.
After a quick and thankfully uneventful trip to the co-op field with the dogs I came home. The dogs somehow knew my back was iffy as they were as good as gold. I then had some toast, and as the washing machine did its best with my undercrackers I had a go at the ironing. In retrospect ironing whilst my back spasmed probably wasn’t a good idea.
“er indoors TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner and suggested I tried some ibuprofen. I hope they sort my back out. At the moment I am fine provided I don’t move…
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