I was glad to see the relief when they arrived at the end
of last night’s night shifts. What with the vagaries of the Duffy blood group
system and people being unwell I didn’t stop last night. I can’t claim that I
was rushed off my feet, but the only break I got was by walking out for ten
minutes. Back in the day I had a little DVD player which I took on night
shifts. During the course of an evening I would watch films and TV shows and do
the odd blood sample in between telly, and then spend much of the night asleep.
Not any more…
Once I’d scraped the ice from my car I set home-wards. As I
drove I listened to the radio as I do. There was loads of talk about the dire situation in Sudan. Eleven
million people have been displaced, twenty-five million in desperate need of
help… and (so it was said) pretty much no one knows anything about these
people.
There was then talk about ex-Harrods boss Mohamed Al Fayed
who died last year. Following stories of his having sexually abused women,
dozens more people have come forward to claim
that they too were abused by him. Were they? I don’t want to sound callous and
uncaring, but what does this achieve? The chap is dead, and stories go back
years, in some cases to the 1970s. How can anyone prove anything either way
from such a long remove in time?
Meanwhile Masterchef star Greg Wallace is in trouble.
However from what the BBC says, I can’t
help but think he’s done little more than carry on as a bit of a lad and is now
having his racy conduct judged by today’s standards. Am I wrong? Possibly.
But… the other day a colleague at work
made some comment about me being fat and bald. As quick as a flash I turned to
another colleague and told them that they were my witness that I’d been
fat-shamed. I couldn’t keep a straight face when I saw how worried the first
colleague looked. We all had a good laugh, but everyone agreed that these days
absolutely anything you might say could be misconstrued.
I had planned to take the dogs straight to the woods this
morning, but it was very cold when I got home. Certainly too cold for Bailey.
So I went to bed for the morning where I didn’t really sleep properly. I got up
after three hours and thought about taking the dogs out. But I don’t like
driving after a night shift really; Kings Wood is a bit far. Orlestone would
have been one big swamp, and the dogs were all fast asleep. And it was still
very cold. So we didn’t go out.
Instead I had a late brekkie and peered into the Internet.
Not much had happened. It rarely does, really. I paid the household buildings
and contents insurance and saved quite a bit of money by paying the lot in one
go rather than paying in installments. I started the process of getting the
boiler serviced, then cracked on with the ironing.
As I ironed I watched episodes of “Four In A Bed” as
I do. One hotel caught my eye. Not far from where “Daddies’ Little Angel TM”
lives, the place offers afternoon teas and take-out Sunday roasts and I was all
for trying it out until I watched the episodes. The people who run it were
rather nasty; finding trivial faults with competitors and blowing them out of
all proportion when their own place was far less than perfect. Claiming to be
vegetarian they were happily scoffing eggs and chicken, and it would seem that
they are now edging on going bust.
As “er indoors TM” boiled up dinner
I watched an episode of “Downton Abbey”. I’ve been watching that in the
evenings on and off just recently. In this evening’s episode Thomas narrowly
avoided getting the heave-ho for his unnatural behaviours, and Lady Mary turned
down the amorous advances of Mr. Matthew. Bearing in mind that Lady Mary once
porked the Turkish attaché to death you’d have thought she’d have been up for a
portion, wouldn’t you?
Dinner was rather good. We washed it down with a bottle of
plonk as we watched more “Lego Masters: Australia”. What with last night’s
night shift and the plonk I’m feeling a tad tired.
Oh - I’ve created the album for this year’s Lego Advent Calendar. Every year
I get a Lego Advent Calendar and make up a little story, but I do myself no
favours by not opening any of its windows until the right day.
I wonder what this year’s one holds in store – no one will
be more amazed than me about how it turns out.
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