I was awake early this morning. As I needed to be. Rather
than turning the telly on I had a look at Facebook and found myself pondering
as I saw who had birthdays today.
Four friends had birthdays. One of them had been a really
close friend for many years; we’d shared so many adventures together. Then one
day when on a family holiday in Gran Canaria two years ago I got a message that
with no notice to anyone he’d upped sticks, moved to Scotland and hasn’t been
seen since.
I wonder how he’s doing.
There wasn’t much else happening on the Internet so I got
ready for work.
I tried chasing the unicorn which was scattering magical
stars as I walked to the car (it's a Munzee thing), but the unicorn
wasn't going the same way as me. I left it to do its thing and drove off to
work.
I turned on the radio and caught the end of some strange
program about religious beliefs in the neurodivergent. It seemed that religious
leaders (vicars and priests and the like) aren't keen on congregants who
see the world differently to them. These people can't seem to distinguish
between the make-believe which is actually make-believe (Harry Potter, tooth
fairies and magical pixies) and the make-believe which the religious want
us to take seriously (all the tosh the churches spout).
This was followed by some article about beef farming in an
obscure Scottish island, but the chap being interviewed was on the dull side,
so I turned over to my rather wonderful choice of music and sang along to that
as I drove up the motorway.
I got to work. Not having been there for a while I checked
my emails. My long service award for forty years of blood testing has come
through. I had a choice of vouchers for various shops, so I went for a Lego
voucher. I would rather have had cash, but I was told that I would have to pay
tax on a cash award but not on a voucher. How does that work?
Lego it is then...
Work was work. Having been off for five days it made a nice
change, and being at work forced me to leave the new pond alone to settle for a
few days, and not to do any more heavy lifting.
What with four-mile dog walks and rather strenuous
gardening I've been overdoing it somewhat lately. Blood testing has its
stressful moments, but it is a whole lot less physically demanding than how
I've been carrying on lately.
I did my bit. Still suffering from Friday's epic beer
session, and still aching from last week's pond building.
I
came home to find the grandchildren were having a day with Nanny. I had a
rather good time with “Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM”
who was playing with the pond fish. “Darcie Waa Waa TM” was
good right up to dinner time. Having spent twenty-five quid on KFC she didn’t
eat a thing and just constantly screamed (for over an hour) for
absolutely no reason whatsoever.
I’m
sorry but I don’t have the patience for that. And being wound up made me very
unimpressed to see the KFC had got the order wrong. Again. I’ve been going to
that KFC on and off since 1986 and (at the risk of sounding like a
reactionary old git) in all that time they’ve never employed anyone who can
speak English well enough to work in a KFC. If you check the receipt you’ll
often find that what you order bears no relation to what they think you’ve
asked for. And the receipt is completely at odds with the food you get. And
there’s no point complaining because they don’t understand what you are saying.
Just
recently we’ve used the app and that works. I shall use the app next time.
“er indoors TM” has taken the littluns
home. I’m sitting on the sofa enjoying the peace and quiet.
I’m still feeling grotty…
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