I
was rather knackered by the time I got to bed last night. The main problem with
the late shifts is (like everyone else) I’ve done loads in the morning
before the shift and am worn out before I start. By the time I’d found
somewhere to park I didn’t get home till ten o’clock last night.
I
slept like a log last night despite a rather vivid dream in which National
Service had been re-introduced and I’d been drafted into the Sea Scouts.
I
made toast which I scoffed as I peered into the internet. There was a photo of
the two women out of Abba on one of the random Facebook pages I follow, and you
wouldn’t believe the nasty squabbles kicking off about whether or not they were
recognisable.
As
I rolled my eyes so “er indoors TM” announced that Morgan had
asked to go outside and had “done one” in the garden. That was something
of a result; as we commented on how his toilet training was improving and what
a good dog he was, so Morgan quietly ate the doormat.
I
put some washing on to scrub, and whilst it scrubbed I took the dogs out. As we
drove we nearly ran over a child. Said child was zooming down the wrong side of
the road on an electric scooter looking back over her shoulder, with those
white earbud things bunging up her ears. If I’d splatted the child, the
newspapers would have said it had been my fault. Back in the day the local
copper would have had a word… when did you last see a copper?
We
got to Kings Wood and walked round our usual route. We saw a few other dogs and
said “hello”. All passed off fine, as it (usually) does mid-week.
Just as we were about a couple of hundred yards from the car park so a herd of
deer leapt out of the thicket and ran across the clearing. They were quite
spectacular; a shame they were too fast for me to photograph. Treacle stood
with me and watched; Bailey and Morgan set off in hot pursuit, but came back to
the whistle.
We
went up to the car, did “boot dogs” (Bailey has to be lifted in),
I tooted on the whistle and gave them all a treat (as I do) and we came
home to disaster. The front door was locked and I couldn’t find my keys. I had
them twenty minutes previously as the whistle is on my key ring. I checked all
my pockets (so many times), but no joy. Had I dropped my keys as I’d got
into the car at the woods?
I
drove back to the woods and searched the ground of the car park. No keys. I put
my hand in my pocket for what must have been the twentieth time… and there were
my keys. They’d been in my pocket all along.
Oh,
how I laughed (!)
We
came home again; the key debacle had only wasted three quarters of an hour.
Once home the dogs very quickly settled, and my phone beeped. I had a Facebook
friend request from “Godess Rose” who seemed to be a cross-eyed bloke
wearing a frankly humungous pair of fake tits. I sent him/her/it a message
asking why he/she/it was asking to be my friend, and also what he/she/it was
supposed to be.
I
pootled about with more of the paperwork on Dad’s estate, then went to bed for
the afternoon where I struggled to sleep. Despite having a hot water bottle I
couldn’t keep warm. Perhaps I should have hoiked Treacle off of it?
I’m
hoping “er indoors TM” will sort me some dinner, then I’m off
to the night shift. I’ve got to go via Sainsbury’s – we are out of washing
jollop for the washing machine… I say “we are out of washing jollop for the
washing machine”; I am reliably informed that *I* am out of washing
jollop for the washing machine…
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