It was one of those nights when the (bigger) dogs were restless. Pogo was seemingly dabbing me on the head all night long, and Treacle had successfully annexed most of the bottom of the bed. I gave up any attempt at sleeping and came downstairs as quietly as I could shortly after five o'clock. But not quiet enough that I didn't wake the puppies.
They woke with a rather sweet squeaking noise. I let them out of their crate, and as they bimbled about in half-sleep so Bailey had a little accident. I should have carried them both straight outside. Morgan managed to get out before tiddling though, so we had a fifty per cent success rate.
I made toast, and with the babies still sleepy I popped them next to me on the sofa, and they slept as I watched half an episode of "Orange Is The New Black" before carrying sleeping puppies back to their crate and setting off to work.
As I drove I was rather pleased to see that the car’s digital speedometer display had started working again. I'd completely forgotten that it had gone west late last week. As I drove I listened to the pundits on the radio. The war in Ukraine is continuing apace, with the Russians clearly utterly oblivious to international opinion.
There was also a lot of talk about the government's latest scheme to sort out the illegal immigrants coming across the English Channel in armadas of little boats. Rather than putting them into detention centres in the UK from which they just walk out (and disappear into the UK having achieved that which they set out to do), the plan is to ship them all out to Rwanda whilst their applications are processed.
This seems quite sensible to me. Possibly a tad expensive, but it solves the problems (doesn't it?) Those genuine cases can then be brought to the UK. Those non-genuine cases can be deported back to where they came from. And those who abscond from the detention centres aren't in the UK anyway and are somebody else's problem. However there were a lot of people kicking off about this scheme - I'm clearly missing something.
There was also an interview with the president of the National Farmers’ Union who was talking about how more and more farmers are looking at automation and robotics for picking their produce now that all the eastern European workers have gone home. She was saying that it would cost a fortune, but fewer and fewer people seem to be interested in getting stuck in with the harvest anymore. Interestingly she made the point that whilst British farmers have quotas of how much land they must devote to wildlife and to planting trees and to solar panels, there are no national quotas of how much food they are supposed to grow. You would think that with the world's bread-basket (Ukraine) now one big war zone and British ports little more than lorry parks, the government might be keen to make sure the country has got some sort of food security, wouldn't you?
I got to work and did my bit as I do. I can't pretend I was overly keen to be working today, but I don't mind really. It was just a shame that today was far busier that I would have preferred to have been. And with work worked, I came home.
I came home to find “er indoors TM” had been beavering away like a thing possessed (and still was). I sat in the garden by the pond for a while feeling absolutely worn out. I seem to be so tired right now – I blame COVID.
“er indoors TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching another episode of “Lego Masters: USA”. The contestant who got sent home tonight really had a face like a smacked arse; she wasn’t happy about getting sent home.
And then we watched two episodes of The Great Big Tiny Design Challenge in which Sandi Toksvig hosted a show in which contestants got to make dolls house accessories. It was actually far better than it sounds, and again the losing contestants really sulked when they got the heave-ho.
I might have an early night. The puppies are crapping and peeing like things possessed and are in something of a “we bite everything” mood which has gone down like a lead balloon with Treacle, who has now got the right hump. You wouldn’t think that a dog could get a moody, would you?
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