I managed a couple of hours sleep until “er
indoors TM” and the dogs quietly
came to bed last night. The minor riot didn't last *that* long, but it
was some time before they all stopped fidgetting. I dozed on and off;
eventually giving up and getting up at five o'clock.
I watched another episode of "Harlots";
the plot is getting rather good. And then I had a quick look at the Internet. A
friend was asking if anyone remembered The Grumbleweeds. I used to listen to
them all the time when I was a lad. They were perhaps the funniest thing that
had ever been on the radio. “Wilf "Gas Mask" Grimshaw” always had
me in hysterics. And then they moved to being on the telly. What a
disappointment. Full of confidence on the radio, they would make half-hearted
attempts at jokes when on screen, and then nervously smile at the camera in the
desperate hope that someone might chuckle. Hilarious on the radio, just pitiful
on the telly. Such a shame.
And I saw adverts for the Folkestone Shoreline
development. On Saturday I mentioned the flats
on Folkestone seafront; this morning my
Facebook feed was crawling with adverts for the place.
Taking care not to disturb anyone I got ready for
work. It was rather amazing how a gang which could be so noisy and restless in
the small hours could be so peaceful at seven o'clock.
I got to my car and eventually set off. Some idiot had
wedged his mini into the space in front of my car leaving me maybe eight inches
of space. There certainly wasn't enough space to walk between my car and that
mini.
Once on my way I listened to the pundits on the radio
talking about (soon to be ex-) Lord
Mandelson who (when in
government) apparently passed on no end of confidential information to
disgraced Jeffrey Epstein quite possibly giving him the heads-up for all sorts
of dodgy dealings.
I went in to Sainsburys where I got a sandwich
and a bottle of plonk. As I scanned the bottle through the self-service machine
it said it needed clearance for me to be allowed the bottle of plonk. The
delightful assistant (who hates me filling the self-service machine with all
the copper and silver coins I cash up from the Dog Club takings) stomped
over, scanned her card into the machine, and stomped off again. At no stage did
she actually speak or even grunt to me. She then stood and glared as I emptied
all the copper and silver coins from last Saturday's Dog Club into the
self-service machine. When I was done I proudly told her that I'd put over nine
quid's worth of small change in and that my pocket felt a lot
lighter. She turned a rather bright shade of red. I don't know why this
bothers her... but it is rather amusing that it does.
As I worked “er indoors TM” sent
a message. The nice boiler mad had been and done the annual service. Apparently
we needed a new gasket, and he sorted that for us.
Coming home was a nightmare. What with hold-ups at
junctions seven and eight on the motorway and unattended traffic lights on
Chart Road the journey home from Maidstone (which usually takes forty-five
minutes) took just over two hours.
“er indoors TM” boiled up some
very good burritos which we washed down with the bottle of plonk I’d bought
earlier. Sainsbury’s “House Malbec” is rather good stuff, and you get
change out of a fiver as well. I shall get another bottle of that tomorrow.
As we scoffed we watched the latest episode of “The
Traitors: Ireland”. This lot of contestants are rather argumentative…
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