When I came back to bed from the loo in the small
hours I found Treacle panting for air and burning up. I set the fan blowing air
on her, and she eventually settled. She often does that in the night. I then
lay awake listening to her breathing, and getting panic-stricken whenever she
went quiet.
I eventually dozed off and woke just after half past
seven to torrential rain.
I forgot to put the dishwasher on last night. Woops. I
set that going, made toast and had a look at the Internet. It was the same as
ever. A family member was posting some tripe about why Ant Middleton should
become the Mayor of London. I took a deep breath. Everyone sees the “Jack
The Lad” character on the telly… the telly he got sacked from. He was a
COVID denier, he’s got convictions for assault, he’s got a history of being
particularly nasty to women, he emigrated to Australia, he currently lives in
Dubai and his tax history is dubious.
There’s
no denying that the current mayor is a crap mayor, but this is entirely the
problem with all wannabe politicians, isn’t it? They are so loud in pointing
out the failures of their opponents that no one realizes their own inability. “Vote
for us – we aren’t as crap as the others” is hardly a tenable political
position (especially when you are), but most people don’t seem to look
in to what they are voting for.
I Munzed, Worded from “night” to “uncut”
in four goes, then got dressed. Even if it was raining I couldn’t spend the day
in jim-jams (could I?)
I emptied the dishwasher, put a load of washing in,
and with the rain showing no sign of easing up I wrote up a
little CPD. Dull, but one day I might be grateful that I’ve made
the effort (I’ve been saying that for over fifteen years…).
And then the rain stopped. The Met Office weather
forecast was for a dry day but had issued a yellow warning of thunderstorms.
The BBC predicted rain al day. We took a chance, went to Kings Wood and walked
our usual four (and a bit) miles in glorious sunshine.
As we walked we met a geocacher. She greeted us by
saying she recognised the dogs from their pictures on the web pages of
our geocaches in Kings Wood. We had a good chat. She was Belgian, but spoke
incredibly good English.
We came home. I hung out the washing and I had a phone
call from the ENT people at the local hospital. They seemed mildly miffed that
I’d put in a complaint. The reason they hadn’t replied to my phone calls or
emails was that I’d been ringing the wrong number and sending emails to the
wrong address. I suggested that they might update their website, I was told
that wasn’t in her remit. We sorted a hearing test (four months later than I
had been led to believe it would be). She said she’s put the details into
an email. I suggested that they use the NHS app. She said their system wasn’t
compatible with the NHS app.
I suppose I expect too much of them. But that’s what I
get when dealing with the fifty-second best hospital in the UK… Working at
the fourth best has probably given me an over-exaggerated idea of what I should
expect from a local hospital.
I made us a cuppa, and fiddled about on-line
downloading a few more audiobooks (this week’s obsession). I got “Brave
New World”, “Childhood’s End”, “Raffles”… but on the minus
side the version of “Fahrenheit 451” I got was in German. Ho hum…
I ironed the wet shirts and bandannas. As I did I
watched another episode of “Stranger Things”. The show started well in
season one, but now I’m half-way through the last season I find that I’m pretty
much watching it because it would be a shame to stop now. Today’s episode was
an hour and a half in duration, was about forty-five minutes longer than it
needed to be, and the story had been done far better thirty years ago in the
Alexei Sayle classic “Things Exploding 2: Everything Explodes”.
As I watched telly so Treacle watched my every move;
getting more and more twitchy and anxious. Once telly was done I stood up and
she flew to the back door. Then came running back looking expectantly at me. I
announced that I was going to “FEED THE FISH” and she ran to the
fish-pond squealing all the way. She gets so over-excited over the prospect of
a few bits of dried rice.
Whilst I was outside I ran the hair trimmer over my
head – that saved sixteen quid. I voomed round the garden gathering dung too.
I then had a look at some geo-puzzles until my brain
hurt too much.
“er indoors TM” boiled
up a rather good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching this week’s
episode of “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds”. It wasn’t as good as last
week’s episode, but was still very good.
However…
The trouble with any sort of prequel series is that
you know what is going to happen a little way down the line (if you’ve watched
the series to which it is a prequel). There are certain characters in the
show with which putting them in danger doesn’t cause any suspense because we
know that they are going to survive.
Or we do if you are a sad Trekkie like me…
And in closing I’ll make the observation that the BBC predicted heavy
rain (and thunderstorms) all day… the rain finished at half past nine
this morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment