Another iffy night. I got about an hour’s sleep before “er
indoors TM” and the dogs came up. Rather than just having a bit
of a kip like anyone else would, Bailey wanted to pick a fight with anyone she
could. For a very small dog she can be very pugnacious.
I gave up trying to sleep just before five o’clock and
spent a little while plunging the bathroom sink’s plughole. It doesn’t drain as
well as it might.
I made toast, watched an episode of “Bottom”
out-takes then had my usual look at the Internet. It was much the same as ever;
one big argument. People of the Star Trek Facebook pages showing how they have
never actually watched the show. And people on the pond-related Facebook pages
looking for an argument. There was one particularly impressive squabble in
which some chap wanted a waterfall for his garden pond but wanted it to be
environmentally friendly and use no power at all to make the water move.
I set off to where I'd left my car last night (two
streets away). As I walked so the Munzee magical unicorn was scattering
stars in entirely the wrong direction, but I'd gathered enough over the last
few days for me to chuck them down the Munzee wishing well (just outside the
hairdressers) and make a wish. The thing produced a virtual Munzee I might
chase - in the outlet centre.
I gave up Munzee-ing and went to get my car,
Needing petrol I went to the Sainsbury's in Ashford. The
old bat behind the counter who has been difficult in the past has clearly been
spoken to. Today she was doing the job properly; scanning the shopping and the
Nectar cards just like all the other assistants. She clearly wasn't happy about
it though, and had a face like thunder. Mind you she usually has that.
I drove off to work up the motorway. As I drove the pundits
on the radio were talking about the delivery firm Getir which is leaving the UK market. They used
to operate a business in which you ordered all your shopping from whichever
supermarket you wanted and they would deliver it to you. However all the
supermarkets have realised that they are missing a trick here and are now doing
the deliveries themselves. As Oliver Hardy once remarked over ninety
years ago "cut out the middleman Stanley".
They then started dribbling on about the current political
situation in Scotland when I saw something that made me sit up and take notice.
As you come past junction seven on the M20 so the slip road
leading on to the motorway becomes the fourth lane. Usually I pull over into
it, but there was a car on the hard shoulder there seemingly at right angles to
the way it should be. I stayed in my lane to give it space, and as I came past
so I noticed it was moving. It was doing a three-point turn, and I watched it
in my rear view mirror going off the wrong way back up the motorway.
Work was work; a rather beautiful spring day turned to
rather miserable drizzle as I drove home. I gathered dog turds in the garden in
the rain as the BBC’s weather app told me there was a zero per cent chance of
rain in my postcode.
And Facebook presented me with a memory this evening. Seven years ago we went to
deepest Sussex for one of our geocaching walks. Back in the day when my joints
weren’t entirely poggered we would go for serious walks. Fudge could walk for
miles. He wouldn’t though. He would pathetically look at Charlotte who would
always carry him, and as she carried him he would glare at me as though to say
not to let on that he was only pretending to be tired.
At the weekend someone commented that Morgan was Fudge MkII.
When we got him I worried that he might be, and that was why I originally said
no to having Morgan. But they are very different dogs.
He’s been gone over three years and I still miss my Fudge
though…
We spent the evening binge watching something on Netflix. “Baby Reindeer” was
rather good even if the end was something of a let-down.
