I rolled my eyes as I read Facebook this morning. The
sci-fi pages were all a-twitter about Craig Cherles’ announcement that he’s
read the scripts for the proposed new episodes of “Red
Dwarf” and says they are “stunning”. I hope they are, but surely
the show has been done to death. The last few “Red Dwarf” specials were
flops. John Cleese was right to stop “Fawlty Towers” after twelve
episodes. With sixty episodes of “Red Dwarf” is it time to stop?
I didn’t have any emails of note today. I did wonder if the
nice people from the geocaching “London Calling” event might have got
back to me by now. It’s now ten days since I gave up a bit of time to re-write
some Wherigos for them, but the messages they were sending just stopped.
I munzed, got Wordle on the fifth attempt (balmy),
put a load of laundry into the washing machine, and got myself and the dogs
ready for our walk.
As we drove to the woods there was a lot of talk on the
radio about today being VE Day. There had been quite a bit on Facebook earlier,
and it would seem that various national leaders are going to each other’s
celebrations as signs of current political alliances rather than out of any
memory about what happened at the time eighty years ago.
Whilst in no way wishing to belittle the occasion, it might
have been better if it had all been done in a way to remember the past rather
than to create jingoistic nostalgia for an era that never existed. I know
several people who still harbour hatred for Germany and the German people
because of a war that had been over twenty-five years before they were born.
And look at all the refugees that came to Britain during the Second World War.
They certainly wouldn’t be welcomed today.
We got to the woods and walked straight into “an episode”.
As we walked into the woods, so one of the normal people’s dogs ran up to us.
Treacle wasn’t interested (she never is) but the little two played with
the other dog. And as he does Morgan was growling and grumbling, but it was all
part of the play. Nothing that he doesn’t do at Dog Club every week. But the
normal person wasn’t happy, and called his dog away. In retrospect I blame the
other dog for not coming when called, but carrying on playing as the bloke
shouted and shouted. I could see this chap wasn’t happy, so I called my two.
And their immediately coming when called did nothing for his mood. Perhaps I
should have kept quiet, but when he started glaring at me and mouthing off
about “out of control dogs” I politely pointed out whose dogs came when
called, and whose didn’t.
The other passing dog walkers gave me sympathetic smiles.
Apart from Bailey rolling in something disgusting and
eating a dead bird, the next four miles were relatively uneventful.
We came home. Bailey had a scrub in the tub with soap. Back
in the day the cubs would say “with soap” whenever they had been on the
receiving end of a serious wash. I hung out the washing, and made us both a
cuppa. And with “er indoors TM” off to the office I
cracked on with the ironing. As I ironed I watched some episodes of “Black Mirror”. Have you
seen it? It’s rather good.
Seeing the garden waste bin had been emptied I then got the
little pressure washer out and scrubbed the bin out. It was on the smelly side.
I watered the plants, gave myself a haircut, and then did the “Feed The Fish”
ritual with the dogs. Treacle particularly likes doing that.
“er indoors TM” returned with Pogo
(who was having a sleepover). She boiled up a rather good dinner which
we scoffed whilst watching last night’s episode of “Race Across the World”.
Last night’s episode saw the team in last place getting the heave-ho. Sadly it
wasn’t the team I would have heaved.
Oh – and the word is that we’ve got a new Pope. I say “we”…
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