24 February 2022 (Thursday) - It Rained. A Lot

I didn’t have the best of nights. I woke in a cold sweat after only a couple of hours sleep having had a nightmare in which I’d had an owl telling me I’d been accepted into Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There was an apology that it was fifty years late, but Dumbledore himself said I’d got “sod all else to do so you might as well”. Having got to the school I soon found that I’d been invited under false pretences; pretty much all of the students were dead following a mishap with a “f*ck the f*ckers up” jinx and Dumbledore was looking for a stooge to take the blame. And that was when I woke in a cold sweat. Sometimes I wonder about what goes on inside my head.

I went to the loo to calm my nerves and came back to find no space in the bed at all as the dogs had made themselves comfortable.

“er indoors TM”’s alarm woke me shortly after seven, and with her showing no signs of moving I went back to sleep and was blissfully snoozing when the dogs suddenly had a “Red Alert” for absolutely no reason whatsoever at eight o’clock.

 

I made toast and scoffed it while yet another negative COVID test incubated, and as I had a look on-line. The Internet was still there, but not really much of note was going on in people’s lives. Everyone was up in arms about the Russian invasion of Ukraine, but what can the likes of us do about it?

As I rummaged in a rather dull Internet I listened to the sound of the rain against the window. This rain had been forecast; it was a shame that the forecast couldn’t have been wrong today. But what could we do? As always we had two choices. We could sulk, or we could get on with it. The dogs were asking to go out; Pogo was trying to herd me to the front door, so I put on a coat and thought we’d have a walk round the block. But seeing the rain had stopped I thought we’d have a proper walk.

We drove up to Kings Wood and set off on our walk. I slipped in the mud to begin with, but the mud wasn’t *that* bad. It wasn’t that long before we came to a fallen tree. I took a photo of it; I took a few photos as we walked. I had a plan to create an album of photos of the damage caused by last week’s storm. Bearing in mind the carnage of the great storm of 1987, there was disappointingly little damage to be photographed today.

When we got about as far from the car as we were planning to get so the sky darkened and the heavens opened and we got soaked. So much for the rain stopping. We squelched our way back to the car and got home to find glorious sunshine.

 

As the washing machine scrubbed the mud out of the trousers I’d walked earlier I listened to that idiot of a Prime Minister we’ve got who was addressing the nation about the Russian invasion of Ukraine. He comes across so well in these speeches, and then goes on to embarrass himself very soon after, doesn’t he? He was banging on about the sanctions that the UK is going to impose on Russia… doesn’t he realise how much the price of the gas we import from Russia has gone up? Sixty quid a month for me alone! Whilst I do feel for the Ukrainians whose country is fast going back to being a Russian satellite, what *can* the UK realistically do? Until such time as the UK is not utterly dependent on Russian gas, the sad fact is the UK needs to think very carefully before pissing on its own chips.

 

I got out the ironing board, and tried to sort the laundry as Pogo made himself a little nest out of what I was trying to iron. As I fought with ironing and Pogo I watched an afternoon’s worth of “Four In A Bed” which started off with the first contestant crying about how lovely everyone had been to her, and ended up with her crying because everyone hated her. I do like that show (as I have said before), but watching it as it is broadcast is a silly thing to do. I could probably have saved nearly an hour by pre-recording and fast-forwarding through the adverts.

Also as I fought with ironing and Pogo I kept glancing out of the window at the weather which was alternating from glorious sunshine to (not forecast) torrential rain and back again with regularity.

 

With ironing ironed and telly watched I had a look at the monthly accounts. They are a lot better than they might be, but nowhere near as good as I wish they were. I just want to have far too much money. Is that so much to ask?

 

“er indoors TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner which we scoffed as she yelled abuse at the telly as it showed us the last episode of “Celebrity Hunted”. I won’t give the game away, but I will say that two of the contestants were incredibly unlucky.

As we scoffed it we necked perhaps one of the best bottles of white wine that I have ever had. At less than four quid a bottle it gives the lie to the pretentious, doesn’t it?

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