I had a rather restless night. Despite having the internet
connections turned off, my phone loudly announced that I had a message (about
trivia) just as I was nodding off. I then did my annoying trick of sleeping
soundly for two hours, waking before two o’clock and then laying awake for the rest
of the night.
And so I was up silly early watching more “Poldark”
in which Captain Monk Adderly started sniffing round Elizabeth. I can’t work
out why Elizabeth is seen as the local beauty; she always has a face like a smacked
bum.
I then sparked up the lap-top and saw sad news… The local
Husky group is no more. Running Dog Club isn’t difficult. All I do for our
group is show up, open the gate, hang up the money pot and tie a carrier bag
for dog turds to the fence. Admittedly someone else from one of our later
groups takes the turds away and locks the gate, but it is hardly arduous. You
just stick the bag of turds into the nearest bin. And the money – count it up,
pocket it and transfer that amount from your own account to the account of the
people whose field it is. It really isn’t that much to do, it probably takes me
five minutes each week, and everyone (humans and dogs) have such a good
time.
Our dog club meets on a Saturday morning. Until recently
there has been a similar group meeting on a Sunday for huskies and other large
dogs. The woman running the group has had to step down, and sadly the group has
now closed down. No one was prepared to take over. Could no one have found five
minutes a week to keep the group running?
Taking care not to wake anyone I got ready for work, and
once I'd scraped the ice from the car I set off. Having a few minutes spare I
took a little diversion in the general direction of Stanhope to capture a dozen
flat friends (it's a Munzee thing) before heading up the motorway.
Sadly I'd timed things to get on the motorway just as a
load of lorries had come up the motorway from the ferry, and so with the slow
lane full of lorries going at fifty miles per hour and the middle lane full of
lorries overtaking them at fifty-one miles per hour I took my life in my hands
and went in the fast lane. I pulled into the middle lane when I could; there
was a seemingly never-ending queue of vans wanting to voom past at breakneck
speed.
As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about
President Trump's latest
stroke of genius. He's going to solve the Gaza problem by annexing it and
forcibly evicting two million Palestinians. Clearly that goes entirely against
international law, but in cases like this who is it that enforces international
law? Yes - the American army.
Will he go ahead with his plan? Probably not. I suspect he
will actually claim that the plan couldn't go ahead and cite whoever is seen as
Public Enemy #1 in the eyes of the American electorate and come out more
popular than ever. Like him or loathe him, you have to admire him.
Needing lunch I popped in at Sainsburys. I got what I needed and again
there were no tills open with till operatives. That suited me today; with a ton
of change from emptying the collection pot from Dog Club I bought several odds
and ends and paid for it all by emptying all the silver and brass coins into
the machine. One of the staff was glaring at me; I gave her a sickly smile and
carried on dropping in the five and ten pence pieces.
I did my bit. I came home. I had an email. Someone had
commented on something I'd posted to my CPD blog. They'd written
"die!" five hundred and
thirty-six times. Some people would be concerned about that; I think it is
rather sad that some people have nothing better to do with their time, and that
whoever it was that wants me to die is too cowardly to put their name to the
comment.
I wonder who it was. I have absolutely no idea.
I’ve changed the settings to stop people posting
anonymously. I did that on here several years ago.
I wonder what’s for dinner… I’ve got seven hundred and
twenty calories left on today’s allowance.
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