Oh, I ached when I woke
up this morning. I heaved myself out of
my pit and hobbled downstairs where the puppies looked almost as tired as I
felt. They are learning that the first thing that happens every morning is that
they go outside, and both trotted to the back door. I watched them going to the
back door with such a sense of achievement... and it is so frustrating when
they still have their little accidents inside.
I
made toast, and scraped jam onto it using the bone-handled knives I blagged
from Dad's kitchen yesterday. I quite like those knives, even if they are quite
a bit older than I am. I scoffed toast watching an episode of "Better
Than Us", then set off to work through the pouring rain.
As
I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the after-effects of
last Friday's mini-budget. Over the weekend the pound has collapsed against
every other currency in the world. I'm no financial genius, but it seems clear
to me that neither is our new Chancellor of the Exchequer (if the global
financial markets are anything to go by).
There
were reports from the Labour Party conference that the Labour party feel the UK
should adopt some form of proportional
representation in parliamentary elections. Again no one is brave enough to address the
actual problem with British politics; what the country needs is an electorate
capable of making an informed decision. Am I being harsh on my fellow voters?
In support of my cynicism I'd like to make the observation that in Italy
they've just voted for the most right wing leader since the second world war and
look how well Benito
went down (literally).
I
got to work and cracked on with the early shift in a somewhat reflective frame
of mind. Yesterday I mentioned I'd met
an old pal from my days in the Boys Brigade of forty years ago. Also when
tidying out Dad's house yesterday I found an old class photo from 1975. I had
seen Gary from time to time over the years, and two of his sisters are on my Facebook
list so I've had vague contact with him. But of my thirty-odd ex-classmates...
Four of them are Facebook friends; I actually saw one of them eighteen years
ago. But as for the rest... I believe two are teachers (one science, one
history) and absolutely anything could have happened to the others. I
wonder what did happen to them?
With work done I came
home and took the dogs to the woods. It had rained quite a bit during the day,
and the dogs got filthy. Every year we stop going to Orlestone over the winter…
is it time to stop going there until the spring?
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