I had a good night’s sleep which was something of a
result. I got up at seven o’clock, made toast and had my usual look at the
Internet.
There was an interesting post from “The Great
British Pub Crawl” who probably made a mistake when answering a question
about how he chooses his list of pubs to visit when goes to any given town.
There was one particular pub in a town he’d visited which would (apparently)
have been on any serious drinker’s itinerary but he hadn’t visited it. When
asked why he hadn’t been to that one he said that they place had been
approached to sponsor him and they’d chosen not to do so. I found myself
reminded of a conversation I once had with the then manager of the Ypres Castle
pub in Rye. At the time the place was far and away the best pub in Rye, but the
manager openly admitted they would never get into CAMRA’s “Good Beer Guide”
because he refused to put on the sumptuous buffet the judging committee
expected to be given when they came round to inspect.
I wonder if CAMRA still operate that way? I was a
member for years and was never once asked my opinion about my preferred local
pub. I would just be told the decision made by the local committee.
And I sent out birthday wishes to someone who I
thought was a lot older than me… but turns out to be a lot younger.
As I peered into the Internet so the bin lorry came up
the road collecting the garden waste. They were a whole lot quieter that last
Friday’s collection had been; not a single swear word was shouted up the
street.
I Munzed, Wordled from “older” to “lance”
via “leave” and “latte”, and got ready for the morning.
I drove the dogs up to the woods. As we drove the
pundits on the radio were talking about Gianni Infantino who has been the
president of FIFA for the last ten years and apparently has worked wonders for international football. I did have a wry
smile when the windbag being interviewed explained the secret of this chap’s
success. It was claimed that it was nothing to do with his football prowess. It
was claimed that just like Boris Johnson, Elon Musk and Donald Trump (and
several others who were also named), the bloke was predominantly an
entertainer.
And that in a nutshell is precisely what is wrong with
the world right now. (I know – I keep saying this).
We got to the woods. We walked a different route to
our usual one. Back in the day we kept to the same old walk so much that Fudge
flatly refused to walk any other routes and had to be dragged on a lead if I
wanted a change.
We had a good walk. We avoided much of the mud. We
discovered a new footpath; there can’t be many in those woods that we don’t
know about. We walked for five miles and for much of that we didn’t see anyone
else at all.
We had a minor incident when we got back to the car
though. I opened the boot and said: “Boot Dogs!”
This is the signal for those dogs that are big enough
to jump into the boot (Bailey isn’t). Two jump in, one gets lifted in. I
then do the whistle and the dogs all get a treat and a fuss (which
reenforces the whistle training)…
Or that is the plan.
Some passer-by felt that the command “Boot Dogs!”
was a direct and personal insult to her dog, and once we’d finally sorted out
that no insult or offence was intended, she thought her dog might like to get
involved (and get into the car boot) for a treat.
Oh dear…
We came home for a belly wash and a cuppa, and then
the dogs went mad. The Evri delivery driver was putting a parcel into the box
outside the house. I went outside and asked why he didn’t knock on the door; he
pretended not to speak English. I took the parcel off of him, and the parcel
that he’d dumped on the garden recycling bin when he suddenly could speak
English and clearly told me that parcel was for someone else. When I commented
that he could speak English he again pretended not to be able to do so.
Some people really don’t help themselves.
I got the pressure washer out and had a first blast at
the patio. The trouble with pressure washing is that all that the pressure
washer does is lift the dirt off of that which is being washed. You need to get
busy with the broom to sweep the mucky water away and the drain soon clogs. But
I got an hour or so’s scrubbing in. I just did the worst of it, and will get
into the nooks and crannies in a few weeks when all the hibernating bugs are
out.
By then I was rather worn out so I settled in front of
the telly with the dogs. I watched the last of “Boots”
which was rather good, and then the film “Prometheus” which wasn’t. Sadly
like all the films in the “Alien” franchise it rather assumes that you
have to be rather stupid to be allowed to get onto a spaceship.
As I waited for “er indoors TM” to come
home I played with ChatGPT some more. “er indoors TM” eventually came home from a day at the office and boiled up pie
and chips which we scoffed whilst watching this week’s episode of “Star Trek:
Starfleet Academy”. Sadly the show started rather well, but after a couple
of months they’ve just broadcast what must be the weakest episode of Star Trek
ever. And that’s up against “Spock’s Brain” and the first three seasons
of “Enterprise”. Sadly Star Trek is fast going the way of “Doctor Who”
in that I want to like it, but it is taking some doing.
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