Everyone was settled last night. No one fidgeted or
wanted to go shouting at seagulls and I slept through until seven o’clock.
I got up, made toast and had my little look at the
Internet. It was still there, and was much the same as it ever was. This
morning’s squabble was on a Facebook bird watching page where someone wanted
people to identify the woodpecker he’d just photographed. The bird in question
looked like a goldfinch to me (and a lot of other people too) but the
chap who’d posted the photo knew a woodpecker when he saw one, or so he
claimed.
I took the dogs up to the woods for an early walk. It
didn’t seem as warm as yesterday. As we walked there was a buzzard flying low
through the trees squawking like a thing possessed. I stood and watched it for
a few minutes, and then realised that fifty yards away a herd of deer were also
watching it too. The dogs were utterly oblivious to the deer.
We had a minor episode as we came back to the car
park. As we walked up the hill I saw the old chap who’d taken a tumble a couple of months ago and who I’d helped up.
I was about to explain that Pogo would probably scream at his dog, but he does
that. Pogo gave a half-hearted squeak and the old bloke stamped and thrashed at
Pogo and shouted at him to f… off. When I asked him if that was necessary; the
old bloke got rather aggressive. When he’d finished ranting I reminded him that
I’d helped him up a little while ago, and that the next time I see him lying on
the ground I would leave him there. It was at that point that he pretended to
be deaf, and his rather embarrassed wife tried to hurry him away.
Would I leave him laying on the ground next time? Probably
not…
We came home. I Munzed, Wordled from “night” to
“sling” which I got on the last go. I did a You-Gov survey and then
wasted ages looking at audiobooks. Bearing in mind my utter inability to listen
to the Adrian Mole diaries on Radio Four Extra at the weekend I had a plan to
download them to my MP3 stick and play them in my car that way. Sadly the best
I could find was to get them on a CD… CD – my car doesn’t have a CD player, and
who has a CD drive on a laptop any more? The best I could find was some “audible”
thing which would have me spending money each month. Not a lot of money, but I
said that about the Sky TV. By the time I paid for Sky and the internet and
Netflix and Paramount it soon added up to over a hundred quid a month.
I eventually got the Kindle app to start reading the
Kindle book I’d bought ages ago, but all it would read was the copyright
rubbish; not the actual story. I had this idea that I might play it from the
BBC Sounds website directly on my phone, and I tried that as I set off to
Folkestone, but for some reason the phone won’t play any sounds when in the
car. Something to do with the Bluetooth I think?
I spent an hour or so running errands for “Daddies’
Little Angel TM” and then took her and Pogey home. It
was eight degrees cooler in Folkestone compared to Ashford.
I
got home and scoffed some malt loaf for lunch as I marked a trainee’s essay on
iron metabolism.
We did “FEED THE FISH”. If I haven’t made the
announcement by about half past three all three dogs follow me around waiting
for the announcement. The fish got fed, the dogs had a few scraps of dried
rice. Everyone saw that as a result.
I watered the plants, played Meowdoku, and checked the
car’s tyre pressures. As I drove home earlier it told me one of the tyres had a
low pressure. All seemed OK to me when I checked, but I’d rather have a false
alarm than no alarm.
We had a rather good dinner (with a chilled bottle
of that cheapo plonk) whilst watching another episode of “MacDonald and
Dodds”. I’d be rubbish at being a detective. And to think I once seriously
considered being a rozzer…
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