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25 September 2023 (Monday) - Birthdays

Finding myself wide awake far too early (yet again) I thought about making toast and strawberry milk shake for “er indoors TM. Thirty-six years ago last night we'd had toast and strawberry milk shake in the small hours when she was in early labour starting the process of squeezing “My Boy TM” out. For a couple of years it became something of a tradition when awake with small babies, but as they started sleeping through the night so did we (or tried to). But not being brave enough to wake her I thought better of the idea.
I tried to get back to sleep and dozed on and off for a while, before giving up with sleep and I got up. Or attempted it. Moving hurt; I blame an episode at Prison Island yesterday when I dived into the ball pit and tried to "swim" in the balls rather than stepping in and walking.
 
I hobbled downstairs and started my morning routine. As I made toast I was surprised to see not-so-nice-next-door was in darkness. There is usually a light or two on in there from five o'clock onward. Was she having a lie-in?
I made toast and watched an episode of "Shameless" in which today the scriptwriters showed their utter ignorance of the Scout Association. For a show which started so well, the writers soon gave up any attempt at doing any research on their storylines.
And with telly watched I had a little look at the Internet. There was an extremely nasty squabble on one of the Lego pages about the right way to stick one bit of Lego to another. Taking a thin Lego plate and wedging it at ninety degrees between the studs of another brick was seriously being frowned upon. And someone who was asking for help and advice on one of the Garden Ponds pages was getting nothing but unnecessary sarcasm.
 
Taking care not to wake those who'd moved into what had once been my bit of the bed I got dressed and set off to work. As I drove I listened to the pundits on the radio. This morning they were rather concerned that the army is on standby as armed police officers are handing in their licences to kill. I can't say I blame them - an armed copper was sent in to a dangerous situation in which he had to make a split-second decision and now he's being charged for committing murder. Understandably other armed coppers aren't keen on going to prison for doing their job. Presumably the squaddies aren't fussed, or they just do as they are told?
Meanwhile our old friend science was getting rather excited as fragments of the asteroid Bennu have safely been retrieved.
And there was an interview with the leader of the Dribbling Democraps who said an awful lot without actually saying anything at all.
 
I got to work and cracked on with that which I couldn't avoid. As I worked I was surprised to see one of the secretaries in at work; this morning Facebook had told me it was her birthday. Going to work on your birthday? I worked on my birthday once. It was in 1983, it seriously sucked, and I have never worked on my birthday ever since. If my birthday wasn't a weekend day I would take the day (usually the whole week) off.
And talking of birthdays, as well as “My Boy TM” and my Facebook friend, Treacle is having her birthday today. She is seven. She's a funny thing. Sometimes she's a grumpy old lady of whom both puppies are (very) frightened and who can't stand the company at Dog Club; other times she's running off with slippers and socks wanting to play a game. She *loves" "FEED THE FISH!" She's a very intelligent dog and she understands a lot of what we say; she will fetch specific items when asked, and understands when I tell her all the food is gone when I'm sharing scraps.
She’s currently fast asleep next to me on the sofa. Dogs don’t seem to understand birthdays…

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