19 May 2022 (Thursday) - On The Wrong Motorway Brigde

With storms forecast for last night I was rather worried that the puppies might be frightened, so I was listening out for their cries during the night. I heard some whimpering at half past two, but by the time I'd got my slippers on they had settled again. Having got up to get my slippers on I tripped over Pogo who wanted to get on to the bed. I made the mistake of helping him up; he immediately hogged my spot. I then spent five hours fighting him for bed space.

I later remarked to “er indoors TM about the puppies crying. She laughed and said she'd been up with them until two o'clock because they had been upset by  the storms that I slept through.

 

Despite the kitchen getting closer and closer to being finished, the kettle and toaster were still missing this morning, so once the puppies had been tiddled I set off to work without any brekkie.

As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the radio were talking about Prince Charles who is on a trip round Canada where he has been asked to take back a message to the Queen asking her to formally apologize for the ‘assimilation and genocide’ of the native people.

That's a cheek, isn't it? When I took scouts to Canada I heard so much racial abuse and hatred directed at the native population... and that was from the local scout leaders. If they are so nasty to the indigenous people, what must the average Canadian think of them? And they want the Queen (of all people) to say sorry?

As I drove the rain got worse and worse, despite the weather forecast saying what a bright day we were having. I've commented before on what a racket being a weather forecaster must be.

 

Work was a tad different today; I spent the day in training learning how to operate a new blood testing machine we are getting. I learned loads, and it beat working.

 

I came home to find the kitchen is seriously nearing completion. It looks like there’s still loads to be done, but I am reliably informed there’s not more than a few days’ work left. Let’s hope so; what’s been done looks good, but I have to say I’m getting fed up with living in uproar. We’ve effectively been camping in the living room for three weeks now. 

Meanwhile some unmoral young lady is flashing her jubblies at motorists on the Thanet Way… I wonder if she might take a day trip to the M20? It would certainly liven up “Operation Brock”.

18 May 2022 (Wednesday) - Bit Dull, Bit Tired

As I took the puppies out to the back garden this morning I could hear not-so-nice-next-door unlocking at least half a dozen locks on her back door.  Having unlocked all the locks she then stepped into the back garden and immediately locked the door behind her. She then did whatever it was she went into the garden to do (which didn’t take long at all), then unlocked all the locks, went back in again and locked them all again. About ten to fifteen seconds later (as I was waiting for the puppies to stop scrapping and start pooping) so I heard all the locks again. She came out, locked all the locks behind her, fiddled about for less than a minutes, unlocked them all again, and went back inside again.

And as I waited for the puppies to do their thing she did this three or four more times.

She does make me laugh; who does she think wants to get in to her house. And bearing in mind that there is impenetrable overgrowth all over the high fences round her garden how does she think anyone can get to her back door?

Whilst I was out listening to the sound or back doors being continually locked and unlocked I had a look at the pond. The fish which nearly had his chips yesterday seemed to be OK; swimming about with all his pals.

 

Being unable to find either kettle or toaster I thought I'd get brekkie at work. I walked the epic mission to where I'd left my car (two streets away). As I walked I watched an idiot jogger. With those huge headphones that block out all sound other than what he was listening to I watched him run right in front of a car without realising that he'd done so, and a few seconds later he ran out in front of my car. I blasted my hooter (which he heard) and he seemed surprised to realise he was in the middle of the road inches from having been run over.

 

I drove up some rather busy roads this morning. As I drove the pundits on the radio were rather depressing. With the Ukrainian situation worsening for both sides and inflation having reached a forty-year high, the world seemed particularly bleak today. Perhaps that was why I struggled to get any enthusiasm for work today. Despite finding a rather interesting and particularly obscure case (a sub-group of blood group “A”), for much of the day I really couldn't be arsed. I don’t dislike my job, but I’m getting more and more fed up with having to do it. If inflation wasn’t at a lifetime’s high I would have retired this morning.

 

There was something of a minor victory as I came home; I was glad to see the coast-bound bit of "Operation Brock" was in use. Last night it wasn't and I'd had to drive along the bit that the lorries use... at only thirty miles per hour for twenty miles. This evening I could go at fifty miles per hour. Only twenty miles an hour slower than I might have done, and I was only quarter of an hour later home than I might have been.

 

With the kitchen getting ever closer to completion “er indoors TM was able to use it to incinerate a bit of scran for our tea. There’s no denying that the new oven is a tad keen. I expect she’ll get the hang of it. I hope so; if I have to get the hang of it, I shall put the thing on eBay and go up the KFC. 

I feel surprisingly worn out… I wonder why. It’s not like I’ve done much today really…

17 May 2022 (Tuesday) - Before the Late Shift

When I went to bed last night I had six hundred and twenty-two friends on Facebook. This morning I had six hundred and twenty-one. Overnight someone decided that they didn’t love me any more. I wonder who that was.

I used Facebook to send out a birthday wish to someone who does still love me, then had a little look to see what I’d missed overnight. There was a minor whinge on one of the geocaching puzzle pages in which someone couldn’t solve what seemed to be a simple puzzle. I pointed out that you aren't supposed to see what the solution is.. You really do just randomly try absolutely everything until by chance you hit on whatever was going through the head of the person who set the puzzle at that moment. Which is why I hate puzzle caches. People really do try to outdo each other with the most ridiculously convoluted conundrums.

For example you might see a puzzle with a description about dog food. You might try every possible answer relating to dog food, but get nowhere. However give it some (what is described as) logical thought. Dog food… Dogs are descended from wolves… Wolves howl at the moon… The puzzle is actually about the numbers of the various Apollo missions of fifty years ago.

Why do people put out such insoluble puzzles – the who thing is supposed to be a bit of fun (isn’t it?). There are those who disagree with me… but not one of these people have solved the puzzle cache I put out specifically to illustrate this point.

 

I took the dogs to the park. We would have gone to Orlestone, but the car was full of tip rubbish. We had a good walk; marred only by the glares of the leaded-dog community. The dog walkers of Viccie Park are fast forming into two distinct and mutually exclusive sets. there are those who let their dogs run off of the leads, and those who don't. Those who don't quite openly judge those who let their dogs run, whilst keeping their dogs on extending leads which spool out to ten yards and tangle and trip anyone and everyone in that radius.

 

With dogs walked we came home, and I went out into the garden to see what the puppies were up to. They were both far closer to the pond than they every usually go on their own, both pacing up to and jumping back from some large orange thing. Initially I thought they'd stolen some vital part of the kitchen installation equipment, but it was a fish. One of the Koi had jumped out of the pond. It looked dead, but when Morgan nudged it, it gave a rather pathetic twitch. I popped it back into the pond, and swirled it to and fro so water flowed through its gills (the piscine equivalent of the kiss of life). After a couple of minutes the fish seemed to revive, and swam off.

I wonder if it will survive?

 

 I left dogs and fish under the supervision of “er indoors TM  and went round to the tip where I unloaded all my tat... even if I did get charged four quid to get rid of the old sink. The chap at the tip had a credit card machine, and wouldn't unlock the appropriate skip unless I paid four quid. I've got some bags of hard core and tiles to get rid of; the bloke at the tip wants four quid for each bag. He's having a laugh.

From there I drove up to Ulcombe church to get the information for two puzzle geocaches.  Sensible ones. I found the grave and the war memorial that I needed and got the  numbers, and then drove into Coxheath for more geo-nonsense (as I do before work).

As I drove I was listening to "Women's Hour" on the radio which (among other things) featured an interview with some lesbian footballer for no reason that I could fathom other than any potential shock value. This woman was talking about how much public interest there had been in last Saturday's women's football cup final; she claimed it was because of all the "advertisingment" and continued going on about the "advertisingment". I thought it rather cruel of the show's producers to have brought this woman on only to make an idiot of herself on national radio because she couldn't pronounce the word "advertisement". 

I got to work, eventually found somewhere to park... and as always when on the late shift the best bit of the day was over and done with by noon... even though I didn’t get home till after ten o’clock.