I had a rather good night last night; when the dogs are
still, so is everyone else.
I made brekkie, watched more “Peep Show” in which
one of the more annoying secondary characters croaked (Good!) then had a
quick look at the Internet. I saw one of my less well to do friends was on yet
another foreign holiday. I suppose it is cheaper to go abroad than holiday in
the UK these days.
Four friends had a birthday today. I sent birthday wishes
to two, the third had set his Facebook settings to not allow birthday wishes,
and the last was someone I *think* I knew from astro club but has made
no effort to contact me in the last seven years.
I had a sneaking suspicion that an old friend from college
had his birthday today. For two years Dave Ferrier was one of my closest
friends. Together we were known as “Dave squared” at college. Every
lunchtime we would have a minor pub session, and he showed me all round the
lesser-known parts of Brighton where the tourists don’t go. Sadly when we left
Brighton Technical College (in 1983) we rather lost touch. The last I
heard (twenty years ago) was that he was somewhere in the Epsom area.
I had a quick Munz session, then set off up the motorway.
As I drove the talk on the radio was about nothing else but the announcement
that the King has got cancer. Despite
all that was known was that the King had cancer, there was endless talk and
speculation. There was a lot of reassurances offered, but doesn’t it speak
volumes that the black (ginger) sheep of the family has flown home to see his
father?
I popped in to Sainsburys to get a sandwich (as I’d
forgotten to make one this morning). As always all of the tills were
closed, but there were plenty of staff standing round laughing at the customers
struggling with the self-service tills.
Work was work. Half way through the morning one of my
colleagues had a phone call. Her husband was having a day off today and he’d
had a message from his boss. This boss was about to open the shop (a branch
of a well-known chain where he is the manager) when he heard voices from
inside the shop. Rather than calling the police he flung the doors open and
charged in… to find bailiffs who had forced entry and an electrician cutting
off the leccie. Apparently there is an unpaid leccie bill of about twenty thousand
quid.
Will the shop be opening tomorrow?
I spent much of the rest of the day watching the antics of
the flock of goldfinches who live in the tree outside the blood bank’s window.
And with work worked I came home… eventually. With total
mayhem at the junction where I take the motorway home, I drove five miles the
wrong way up the motorway, turned round at the next junction and drove back
past the junction which was horrendously congested for absolutely no reason
that I could see.
“er indoors TM” boiled up a very good
bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching more “Junior Bake Off”
which was rather good, and then the final of “Traitors” which wasn’t.
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