15 July 2024 (Monday) - St Swithin's Day

I slept reasonably well. Periodically I wonder about moving house; an en-suite would be nice as it is quite a trek to the toilet in the night.
I had a rather quick brekkie this morning then popped down the road to the dentist to see if I could get an appointment today. This week’s receptionist (there’s someone new every time I go) seemed surprised I went to the surgery rather than phoning; I asked if she’d ever phoned the surgery and she gave me a rather embarrassed smile. They said they could fit me in at lunch time, so I went home, put a load of washing in to scrub and took the dogs out.
 
As we drove to the woods the pundits on the radio were talking about last night’s big football game. It turned out that the England team didn’t win, so there’s no Bank Holiday to be had. There was talk about the manager of the England team being sacked because of the defeat. I don’t know much about it, but it strikes me that being a football team manager is a thankless task; they seem to get sacked very regularly.
 
We got to the woods; we had a rather good walk. One of our usual ones that didn’t take the slope down and the consequential slope back up again. It was a shame that Treacle had to wade through the swamp, but that’s what she does.
After four miles we were back at the car. We met a few other dogs; I wish Pogo wouldn’t scream at them. He didn’t bark or go up to them or be in any way annoying or threatening. He just screamed. He does that. I wish he wouldn’t.
 
We came home. I pegged out the washing, put more in and made us both a cuppa. There was a minor disaster in that when we wrote the shopping list yesterday we forgot we’d run out of biccies. Fortunately we’ve a job lot of expired Snickers bars from the Bargain Warehouse, so we had one of those each.
I had my root round the Internet rather later than usual today. But it was much the same as ever. People were arguing about garden ponds, crackpot religions, dogs, Star Trek…
Google told me that I am one of the top ten pub reviewers…
I saw someone I used to know was moving house today. He and his nearest and dearest have sold up and are moving hundreds of miles away to start a new life. Quite a few friends have done this over the last few months and years. Wales, Scotland, East Anglia, the West Country…people want to be anywhere but the South East it would seem. Some people moved to be with family and friends. Some moved for a job. Some are going home. Others just took a leap into the unknown, which is rather brave.
Sometimes I think I’d like to move house. Somewhere with off-street parking and a chodbin closer to my pit. But where… either Ashford, or *just possibly* (but incredibly unlikely) back to Hastings. I suppose I took a leap of faith when I moved from Hastings to Folkestone all those years ago, and another when I went from Folkestone to Ashford. But I was young and brave then.
 
I went down the road to the dentist where the waiting room was rather full. But again like with any medical appointment the person having the appointment had brought along an entire tribe to keep them company.
With my gob fixed I then went on to the pet shop to get some odds and sods, and as I was in there so the drizzle started. I came home to find “er indoors TM had brought in the washing from the line. Together with that which was in the washing machine I struggled to find space to air out all the damp washing.
With damp washing spaced out we had a cuppa with biccies. “er indoors TM daid we had biccies; I just couldn’t find them.
 
I then cracked on with something I’ve been meaning to do for ages; a general little tidy up round the chodbin. Wiping the blind took twenty minutes. I washed the walls down, scrubbed the skirting boards and generally tidies up a bit. It took an hour and at the end I was knackered and, like gardening, it looked just the same as it did when I started.
I then spent an hour writing up CPD. As I wrote up I kept glancing out of the window. In the great scheme of things cleaning the bathroom and writing CPD had been pencilled in for tomorrow. Today was supped to be an “in the garden” afternoon. But I’d come home from the pet shop in the drizzle, and the radio was giving yellow warnings of rain and thunderstorms. However the rain stopped about ten minutes after I got home, and the afternoon was rather dry.
 
“er indoors TM sorted dinner then went bowling. I’ve settled myself in front of the telly for the evening.
This forecast torrential rain hasn’t come yet. I wonder if it will? After all, if it rains hard today, it will supposedly rain all summer.

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