Yesterday I woke at quarter past two… it was something
of a relief when I woke and saw the clock this morning - ten to four. Still far
too early, but a minor result. I lay awake for an hour before giving up and
getting up.
I made toast and watched another episode of “The
Man In The High Castle”, then had my usual rummage round the Internet. This
morning it was on the dull side. I sent out one birthday wish, Munzed, and got
ready for work.
I made my way to my car, picking my way through the
bins that the bin men had strewn across the pavement. They've stopped
hollering swear words up the streets at half past six on a Friday morning, but
they still won't put the bins back where they find them.
As I drove off so Kyle's mum was walking the
streets again. Kyle was one of the stranger of my cub scouts many years
ago (and that was up against some pretty stiff competition). He could
speak, but for the most part chose not to. He used to communicate by pulling
strange grimaces and he seriously expected everyone would know what he wanted
and what he meant from the faces he pulled. After a few weeks of his nonsense I
used to deal with him by replying to his strange gurning by pulling faces back
at him. If what he wanted was important he would eventually communicate with
words, and if he didn't speak I would assume that what he wanted was trivial
and could be ignored.
Was that harsh of me?
I often see his mother when I'm out and about.
She lives just down the road, and for years has spent pretty much all of her
life walking round Ashford. I've seen her in all parts of the town and at all
times of day. This morning she was going past Pets at Home at half past six.
Does she just like walking? Is she claustrophobic? Or is there maybe an
issue at home and should I be saying something to someone in authority? If I
had any confidence at all in social services I might just do so. But I haven't.
And so I won't.
I went round to the petrol station to fill up. Petrol
ain't cheap these days. I also got a sandwich for lunch. Again being there
before the morning's shelf-filling I had to choose from yesterday's leftovers,
and again there was precious little that didn't have bacon in them.
I then headed west-wards through the -hursts and the
-dens. It can be a rather pretty drive when I'm not having to worry about
idiots tail-ending me. There were none today. I stopped off in Goudhurst on my
way. I've got a geocache there which went missing and which I replaced a couple
of months ago. It had gone missing again. I've put out another, but if this one
goes I shall archive it.
I then spent a few minutes admiring the view. For all
that I love my walks round the woods there's no panoramic views to be had there
so I made the most of the opportunity this morning. Several people in cars
slowed down to see what I was doing.
And then it was on to work.
As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about bird
feeders. I always thought that we were doing a good thing by topping up the
bird feeder, but apparently this contributes to the spread of trichomonosis.
Maybe cleaning out the bird feeder might help? Or
giving them a bowl of seed rather than a feeder which harbours germs and
scatters the food all over the place?
And there was more talk about the current war in the
Middle East. Mind you when I say "current war" I really mean
"ongoing and perpetual war". This morning there was discussion
on the radio about Lebanon's involvement in the war. Some Lebanese
government official was being interviewed who pretty much admitted that the
Lebanese government have no control over what the Hezbollah rebels are doing (at
the moment they would seem to be the biggest problem in that part of the world).
And then the chap went on to show why there will never be peace in the Middle
East. He started banging on about some grievances concerning some incident that
happened in 1949, and then moved on to another incident from the early
seventies... It was quite clear that griping about historical
episodes was far more important to him than dealing with tangible current
issues.
I got to Pembury where I should have filled up with
petrol. Normally eight pence per litre more expensive, this morning the petrol
in Pembury was seven pence per litre cheaper than what I'd paid in Ashford. If
I'd topped up there I'd have saved nearly three quid, and when you are as mean
as me, that's not to be sniffed at. It's the price of a bottle of decent beer
from the corner shop.
Work was work. I came home and we had a rather good
dinner of scampi and chips which we scoffed whilst watching the first two
episodes of “Race Across The World” which was streets ahead of “The Hunt”
that we watched recently for the simple reason that I didn’t actively despise
all of the contestants.
I’ve got another early start tomorrow – I wonder just
how early…
And it’s a year since I’ve seen my granddaughter. It’s
her fourth birthday today. If I’m lucky I might see her again in fourteen years.
The country’s judicial system leaves a lot to be
desired…
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