When the dogs weren’t shoving me about I spent an
inordinate amount of time last night embroiled in a nightmare in which our new
works computer was attempting (and succeeding at) global domination.
I made toast and had my usual look at the internet. I’d
woken this morning with an earworm… a song about “Aubrey the Strawberry”
I had a vague recollection that he might have been a magician who came to my
primary school every Christmas. I asked on the school’s Facebook page.
Facebook told me a friend had a birthday today… I
didn’t recognise the name at all. I eventually worked out it was someone with
whom I worked many years ago who had since married.
There wasn’t much else happening on-line, so I
chivvied “er
indoors TM” and the dogs out of
bed.
I Munzed, getting a Quick Grow potion. I Wordled from
“works” to “truce” in four goes. And seeing “dog brekkie”
was done I took the dogs out.
With time short we went to Orlestone, and as I turned
off of what used to be the old A-road and on to Birchett Lane so two stags ran
across the lane. I thought that they were solitary creatures. Google says they are. Clearly deer don’t
read the Internet.
We had a good (if short) walk. The nice people
from Forestry England were doing whatever it is that they do in the woods. We
exchanged pleasantries and then Morgan peed up their tyres. He pees up
everything; I wish he wouldn’t. And we met another nice lady; the meeting went
far better than yesterday’s one.
Mind you we had a minor hiccup when we came home. Some
bloke was walking down the pavement toward us. Clearly he wasn’t too sure with
dogs so he walked up our front garde path and stood in front of our door,
obviously expecting us to walk past. However things didn’t go according to his
plan. With some weirdo in the garden the dogs went mental.
I made us both a cuppa, Meowdoku-ed, and chased up
some purchases I made last week. I’m a great fan of buying things on-line, but
what happens when things go wrong? For example this missing Munzee Widdle
Workshop. I emailed them a few days ago and heard nothing. I emailed again this
morning and got an automated reply. So they got this message, if not last
week’s.
I set off work-wards. I stopped off at the petrol
station in Aylesford where the stuff was again quite a bit cheaper than it is
in Ashford. I got a sandwich whilst I was at it.
As I sat in the works car park scoffing my sarnie I
got a phone call. Someone living in Bexhill had found one of Treacle’s lost
collar tags. By law all the dogs have to have a tag on their collar with my
contact details in case they get lost (the dogs; not the tags). Treacle’s
managed to lose several tags. This one was found on a golf course some time
ago. The nice lady who found it saw the pink butterfly design and thought it
was a marker that you put down to remember where the golf ball was. It was only
this morning when she turned it over and saw my name and phone number, so she
rang me to find out what the tag was all about.
She says she will post it back to me…
I went into work. It wasn’t one of the better shifts.
I pride myself on leaving as little as possible for whoever is taking over from
me… tonight the night shift had its work cut out.
I came home where “er indoors TM” was
watching “Last
One Laughing”; a show featuring ten comedians competing to make each
other laugh without laughing themselves. The last contestant to keep a straight
face wins the trophy. I rather lost interest… I suspect the thing will run and
run. There was no danger of anyone laughing…
No comments:
Post a Comment