Again I gave toast a miss this morning. Instead I had a “high protein summer strawberry flavour shake” which was surprisingly filling and a hundred less calories. I watched another episode of “Trailer Park Boys” then sparked up my lap-top.
Facebook was remarkably dull this morning. There was a bit of an argument kicking off about the way in which you have to book appointments at the tip days in advance. Some people love it, but it don’t work for me. I don’t know when I’ve going to have a load for the tip, or whether it will all go in one car full or not. Apparently the council are keeping the appointment system because of the findings of a public consultation they held… Public consultation? That was a well-kept secret.
I sent out two birthday videos, then had a look at my emails. The nice people at Credit Karma told me my credit rating had gone up by three points this week, but seemed to be utterly unable to explain why. When I clicked the “Find Out Why” button absolutely nothing happened.
I found where I'd parked my car yesterday (two streets away) and set off to work. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the ongoing situation in Ukraine in which neither side looks as though they are going to make any concessions. One side wants to take over the country; the other doesn't want them to. Both sides have got a long way to go before any agreement can be reached. And (as always) it is the innocents who will suffer.
Meanwhile (at first sight) it seems that the Japanese are having problems with Russia too. The Japanese are trying to draw parallels between how the Russian Army had "manoeuvres" on the Ukrainian border before invading Ukraine, and how Russia is now holding military exercises off the coat of the Kuril Islands. However these islands haven't been Japanese islands ever since Russia was given them after the second world war, and the fact that historically they were always Russian until the Japanese captured them in 1904 (and held them until 1945) seems to have eluded everyone.
It took a little longer than usual to get to work today. The ten-mile stretch of fifty miles an hour has been extended to twenty with the overnight reinstatement of “Operation Brock” in the expectation of problems following the unpleasantness in which P&O Ferries sacked all their staff and got people who would work for less money.
I got to work for the early shift and did my bit. As I worked I did chuckle about a visiting engineer who seemed to spend most of the shift shouting into his phone about how he needed to make the C.U. visible. He might have had more (any) success had anyone other than him known what he was talking about.
With work worked I drove up to Meopham as I had somewhere to go. I’d programmed my sat nav to a post-code, and I had a house number. You’d think that would be easy enough, wouldn’t you?
In most streets the house numbers start at one, and go up as high as there are houses to go up to. However in the place I went to, the houses are all custom-built on random plots of land, and seem to be numbered in order of being built. The road started with house thirty-seven and counted down (with some missing numbers) to twenty-two… then shot up to sixty-something. I saw a chap in his garden and asked if he knew where number six was. He laughed and said it could be anywhere. His house was fifty-four but he openly admitted that the number was utterly meaningless.
I eventually found where I was supposed to be; the nice lady knew that visitors had problems and was waiting in her garden. I’d gone up there as a few weeks ago I’d seen an advert telling of jackshunds for sale. Yesterday the advert was still on-line. Fudge was a jackshund. Do I want another one? To be honest I’m not sure. But with Pogo making no secret that he would rather be back with “Daddy’s Little Angel TM” I think it fair to say there’s a vacancy for a dog in our house.
There were two puppies to be seen. One is a dead ringer for Fudge, and for all that I wanted a boy, looking so much like Fudge I would subconsciously be expecting that dog to be my Fudge, and that wouldn’t be fair on him. The little girl is a sweetie, though.
I shall go back with “er indoors TM” in a few days’ time.
I came back home down the motorway and through “Operation Brock”. On what would normally be the coast-bound carriageway were four miles of a double queue of lorries.
“er indoors TM” boiled up an incredibly low calorie dinner which I followed up with a Muller Light yogurt (fat free!) and ended the day over two hundred calories under my daily allowance. Result!
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