As I drove home yesterday evening the weather forecast said
that it would be a hot and humid night and that people wouldn’t sleep well.
They were spot on, but too much ale did help.
I made toast and peered into the Internet as I do most
mornings. There were petty squabbles about Lego and Star Trek, and endless
adverts for Temu who seem to be making everything from children’s toys to saucy
underwear these days.
Judging by the pictures I saw several people were on
holiday; I suppose it’s the time of year for that. My old mate from Boys
Brigade days who moves from hotel to hotel was posting to the world from the
Lake District today. He says it is cheaper for him to lead the lifestyle he
wants by moving form hotel to hotel rather than having a house of his own with
all the associated expenses.
It’s another world, isn’t it?
Being Saturday we drove round to Repton and Dog Club. We’d
had three people asking about Dog Club in the week, and in a novel break with
tradition two of them turned up. So often we have people asking so many
questions about Dog Club and preparing us for a dramatic appearance, and then
never showing up.
Dog Club went rather well. It was a shame that Pogo had to
hump Kai, but there it is.
Having totally failed Steve’s “Guess the Lyrics”
competition on the radio on the way to Dog Club we were out late and missed the
Mystery Year competition on the way home.
We got home. The dogs immediately went to sleep. I counted
up the Dog Club money and paid it into the bank, then cracked on. Washing on to
the line, putting away the garden chairs from last night, running the shears
over my head for a quick haircut, then popped over the road to get some beers
for later.
Disaster.
For years the Polish shop over the road has had the best
beer selection for miles. Today it was no different to Tesco. Such a
disappointment.
“er indoors TM” slipped off shopping. I fell asleep on the
sofa and dozed for an hour or so until she returned. We had a spot of lunch,
then set off to Sittingbourne where we had a rather good afternoon sitting in
Karl and Tracy’s garden drinking beer, eating pizza and putting the world to
rights. There’s no denying that after six pints cracking the gin open might have
been construed as a questionable move, but it was a move I would certainly do again.
We left Pogo there; he is now having a little holiday. We
came home down the M20 following a train which was setting off all sorts of sparks
as trains do. “er indoors TM” said it was lightning; who am I
to disagree (as Annie Lennox once sung).
I’ve got to be up early for work tomorrow… right now that
seems rather ambitious.
No comments:
Post a Comment