Again I was woken by my alarm this morning. Two days
running… the after-effects of a night shift, perhaps? I made toast and had my
usual rummage round the Internet. It was still there. Today my feed was filled
with adverts for dog-tracking technology. You would think that whatever
technology that had been spying on me researching dog-tracking technology would
have seen the messages from the people who make it openly admitting the stuff
is no good to me. In between the adverts for dog-tracking technology were adverts
from various charities offering to write a will for me… provided I gave them a
bung. I’m all for giving charities a bung provided the money goes to “charities”
and doesn’t subsidise a government-funded service. No government of any
political persuasion is ever going to fund hospitals and schools properly all
the time we are popping money into their collection pots, are they?
I also saw that I totally forgot that Neon Street had been
playing at the Conningbrook last night. Mind you every time I’ve seen them
before I usually find that watching them involves spending upwards of thirty
quid at the bar just to get a headache. A little hint to all musicians… if you
are playing inside, you *don’t* need an amplifier. You really don’t.
Turning up the volume doesn’t improve the sound quality.
Mind you I did see that an old schoolmate is alive and well
and living in a forest in North Wales. That’s the sort of thing I want from the
Internet. I’m a very nosey person and want to know what people are doing.
I had an email (or two). The price of leccie and gas
is going down in October. That’s a result. Sky were trying to sell me their Sky
Glass telly… what’s wrong with the current telly?
I deleted a *lot* of unwanted emails, then got ready
for the morning.
I was on opening-up duty at Dog Club so I wanted to be a
few minutes early. I was first one there and I struggled with the gate; you’d
think they’d have made the thing so that you can get your hand through to open
it up, wouldn’t you? As I fought with it so the queue of people (and dogs)
waiting to get in grew and grew.
Dog club was rather good today. Lilly the rescue dog who
was so reactive to other dogs is coming on in leaps and bounds. There was a
baby dachshund along for his first time, as well as a very small Jack Russell
wearing a coat as he has an allergy to grass. There were about twenty dogs
along today. All charging about and sniffing and scrounging for treats and
generally having a great time.
All too soon it was time to come home. “er indoors TM”
went off to Craft Club; as I drove the dogs home Steve was doing the mystery
year competition on the radio. “Brideshead Revisited” gave it away for
me. 1981.
Once home I harvested a bumper crop of dog turds from the
garden. How can three small dogs crap so much? And then I just sat quietly on
the sofa for a while as the dogs slept; dog club really does wear them out.
I loaded up the dishwasher, set it scrubbing and taking
care not to wake the dogs I sneaked out. Sadly there's some abysmal parking
goes on up our street; I spent a few minutes watching a chap trying (and
failing) to park a van in his front garden. I had no option but to watch as
he was blocking the entire road. But with him finally out of the way I set off
to work.
As I drove I sang along to my strange choice of music in
which Meat Loaf gave way to Abba, Kate Bush, Spandau Ballet and Martha and the
Muffins.
With a few minutes spare I popped to the branch of Smyths
in Aylesford to get this year's Lego Advent Calendar. If I had any sense I'd
open it now and give myself a little time in which to plan this year's Advent
story... But I don't have any sense, so I won't open it. It will sit on the
shelf for two and a half months, and when this year's Advent story comes out no
one will be more surprised than me as to how it pans out.
I got to work, had a rather good bit of scran from the
works canteen, then cracked on with the day. And as is so often the case when
on the late shift, the day was effectively all done by the early afternoon.
Mind you there was a minor incident on the way home. As I
came down the slip road off of the motorway at junction nine so there was a fox
walking down the road. Completely oblivious to the traffic. I slowed down and
beeped the hooter; the fox glared at me as if to say “f… off fatso”. He
really didn’t care.
How do you teach the Green Cross Code to a fox? I hope I
don’t see him squished on the road soon.
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