I woke in the small hours to the sound of Treacle
squeaking. She’d got off the bed and couldn’t get back on… until I got up to
help her when she jumped up easily enough. As I was up anyway I went to the
loo, and then dozed on and off listening to the sound of the rain. The heatwave
has finally given in to rain. Ho hum…
I got up and made toast. As I scoffed I had my usual
rummage round the Internet. I was presented with quite a few adverts for an upcoming psychic fair. It will be run by
someone claiming to be “a renowned Tarot practitioner and intuitive healer
who empowers others by illuminating their path with deep insight and spiritual
clarity”.
She’s also a “Usui Reiki Master and
Teacher, who practices on a intuitive & spiritual level”.
Am I being unfair trying not to laugh out loud?
Fifteen years ago when times were hard I used to try to sell oil paintings at
these psychic fairs. The same old people would come to them, and hand over not
inconsiderable amounts of money. One chap would rub their heads another would
have them lie under a blanket and wave what he claimed was an eagle’s wing over
them… and they would all turn up a month
later at the next psychic fair with the same ongoing maladies.
I’ll just make the observation that *if” this
stuff actually worked, why do its proponents go to doctors and hospitals when
they are ill?
And there was whinging from Hastings. The
old building that used to house the printing works of the local
newspaper has opened a rooftop bar with spectacular views… and spectacular
prices. One gin & tonic and a tin (tin!) of cider was eighteen quid.
The weather forecast said the rain would ease so we
went to the woods for a walk. Either the rain or the threat of parking prices
had put people off of going to Kings Wood – there was only one other car in the
car park when we arrived.
We walked a different walk to our usual one. With
reports that one of my geocaches had gone missing we arranged our route to go
past it and have a look. The thing was exactly where it was supposed to be. I
always thought that one was rather easy to find, but people have struggled with
it. I’ve amended the hint.
From there we meandered our way back to the car. It
was a shame that Morgan had to rill in fox poo, but there it is.
Once home I hosed muddy paws and muddy bellies (and
fox poo), did monthly flea treatments, put a load of washing in to scrub
and made myself a cuppa. I Munzed. I Wordled from “toast” to “basis”
via “scram” and “ashen”. I wrote up some
CPD, and went to bed for a few hours.
It was too hot to sleep properly.
I got up and watched a few episodes of “The
Handmaid’s Tale”. At an hour long the episodes are loo long, and the
characters aren’t really believable; seemingly changing their attitudes and natures
every two minutes depending on the twists of the plot.
I’m off to the night shift in a minute…
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