I
watched the last episode of the first season of "Stranger Things"
as I set about brekkie; I watched it with an air of "WTF was that all
about?" Presumably subsequent series will shed light on WTF that was
all about, but for now I haven’t a clue.
I
then set off for work just as not-so-nice-next-door was coming out of
her house, and so I made a point of fiddling about on the phone whilst I
watched her "coming out the door ritual". it is rather
comical, really. Every time she comes out of the door it is opened a hair's
breadth and she peers through the crack. It is then opened to the extent of the
chain holding it whilst she surveys the scene. Once it is clear (without the
shadow of a doubt) that there is no axe murderer lurking, she opens the
door properly, but still has a serious look around before she sets foot outside
of the house. She then steps out of the house as quick as lightening and the
door is locked behind her (quite literally) in less than two seconds of
her coming out.
Her
husband (who hasn't been seen for years) used to do exactly the same. He
also used to comment about having roses growing up the back fences to keep
intruders out; I sometimes wonder if they were moved to Ashford (all those
years ago) under some police witness protection scheme. Why else would they
be so paranoid? Just who do they think wants to get in their house?
As
I drove to work the pundits on the radio were talking about the rate of
inflation which is now running at over ten per cent. There was talk about
whether or not the government would honour a promise to increase pension
payments in line with inflation, but (so it was claimed) Downing Street
currently refuse to discuss any specifics of any policy.
Strange,
that (!)
There
was then an interview with a Sunderland-based cheesemonger which wasted ten
minutes of prime air-time as the fellow mumbled incoherently. Why don't the BBC
teach these people how to speak clearly, and into a microphone?
I
got to work. It was much the same as ever, but there was a minor episode in the
early afternoon when my phone rang. What with all the stuff of Dad's estate
needing sorting I had the thing on and thought the phone call might be
something to do with that. It wasn't. It was someone claiming to be "Denzil
from Currys - PC World" with a bargain for me. Would I like his
i-phone or his android phone at a cut-price rate? It had to be one or the other;
my not getting a new phone wasn’t an option in his world. But I wasn’t having
any of it. I told him I was pleased that he'd called as I had a one-time-only
offer for him. Would he like to piss off, or to get knotted? "Denzil"
didn't seem to understand this, so I told him that I would put him down
for "piss off", and I
blocked his number. I do wish these tele-sales people would leave me alone.
I've signed up for all the "cold callers blocked" options, but
still they phone up with annoying regularity.
I
then had a message from “er indoors TM”. She'd taken the dogs
for a walk and Bailey (the one who'd eaten all that poop yesterday!) was
smothered in fox poo. That was really funny – it is always funny all the time
someone else has to sort out the aftermath of a turd-encrusted hound.
I
came home… arriving home in the dark. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A hundred
yards down the road from my house was a house with its Christmas decorations
and lights up. There are over two months to go yet… isn’t this a bit keen? It’s
not that I don’t like Christmas, but when it starts this early, but the time
Christmas actually happens I’m fed up with it.
“er
indoors TM” sorted dinner which we scoffed whilst watching yesterday’s
“Bake Off”, and then I spent some time fending Bailey off; she wanted to
play and was getting very over-excited.
She
does that…
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