3 February 2021 (Wednesday) - Pants, Red Wine

I slept fine until two o’clock when “er indoors ^TM” and the dogs came to bed. They all made themselves comfortable with no regard for anyone who might already have been resident in said bed. And having made themselves comfortable I then re-organised them so I got some of the duvet.

 

I dozed until six o’clock when I got up, and once I’d gathered Sid’s turds I set the washing machine loose on my undercrackers and had brekkie. As I scoffed I watched an episode of “Superstore” which was rather entertaining, then I sparked up the lap-top. This morning was the start of the February Munzee clan war, so I did a little Munzing from the sofa before seeing what was occurring elsewhere in cyberspace. There wasn’t much going on today, so I turned off the lap-top, set my pants tumble-drying and got ready for work.

 

As I drove through torrential rain the pundits on the radio were remarking on how the bad weather was restricted to the north of the country today. Sometimes I wonder if BBC weather forecasters might benefit from sticking their heads out of the window from time to time.

Not having heard the morning news for a week I did wonder if I'd missed anything. It would seem that pretty much nothing at all had happened over the last seven days. Speculation still abounds about the COVID-19 pandemic. Are the vaccines working better than predicted? Do they work against the new strains? One of the idiot presenters was talking with some expert or other, and he seemed to be implying that mutation of viral strains was something that the experts were creating themselves. Are these presenters really​ as ignorant on scientific matters as they appear to be?

 

There was a lot being said about the recent death of Captain Sir Tom Moore who sprung to fame last year having raised so much money for the NHS. Everyone was singing the praises of the fellow. I know I'm in the minority here, but I'm not sure he did the right thing. The chap had the best of intentions when he tried to raise money for the NHS, but is raising money for the NHS a good thing to do? All the time the public are raising the funds, no government of any political party is ever going to fund anything properly, are they? Take the hospice where my mum is currently staying. Only thirty-two per cent of their money is paid by the government; they are dependent on voluntary contributions for two thirds of their income. And we think nothing of paying for fundraisers for text books for schools, do we?

When did we last have a sponsored walk or a jumble sale to buy a new battleship for the navy? I can't help but think about the goat sanctuary. Entirely dependent on public contribution they seriously faced closure during the first lockdown when voluntary subscriptions and contributions and assorted hand-outs dried up.

Do we really want public services to be so precariously funded?

 

I got to work where we had a rather busy day. It has to be said that I'm getting a tad fed up with those. But on the plus side we had a rather good bit of dinner which we washed down with a bottle of red wine… 

But (it has to be said) tumble drying my pants was probably the most exciting part of a rather dull day…

2 February 2021 (Tuesday) - Candlemas

It seemed that I spent much of the night fighting for duvet, but I still managed eight hours in my pit. I woke up with something of a pain in my right knee. My right knee has been playing up for a little while now. I suspect that I am just too heavy for it, and I suppose I really should start the old diet game again. But (quite frankly) I’m fed up with diets. Over the years I’ve done the lot. Low carbs, Atkins, five-and-two, watching the sins, massive amounts of exercise, no farting on a Thursday… You name the diet, I’ve tried it. They may work for other people, but for me the only way to achieve weight loss is to strictly watch what I eat and record all of the calorie content; all the time remembering that my cake hole is bigger than my “other” hole. I’ve lost massive amounts of weight before, and every time I have done so whilst being constantly hungry.

 

I set the washing machine loose on some laundry, then made brekkie and a sandwich. Yesterday I wasted far too long trying to find where “er indoors ^TM” had hidden my sandwich box. This morning I found it where I’d left it on Friday.. As I scoffed toast I peered into the Internet to see what had happened overnight. There wasn’t much happening today, which was probably for the best.

 

“er indoors ^TM” distracted Pogo; I hurried  Fudge and Treacle out of the house. They both had appointments at the vet. Fudge was going in for the day for blood pressure monitoring; Treacle just had her annual boosters. We arrived and got on the scales; Fudge had lost more weight whilst Treacle was officially a “lump”. Treacle got a one-over and the thumbs-up from the vet, and was as good as gold as she got injected. Fudge wasn’t overly impressed at being left there for the day.

 

Once home I popped to the corner shop to get a sandwich for later, then phoned Dad to see how things were going. Mum is as well as can be expected in the hospice; Dad is struggling somewhat as his boiler “went” overnight. He woke to find the house awash with the ceiling hanging, telly flooded and the carpets ruined. Fortunately my brother was on hand to help; by the time I found out, all was as sorted as could be.

 

Pausing only briefly to deploy a Munzee I set off to work. the pundits on the radio were broadcasting some rather depressing drivel about deaths in the family, so I turned it off and sang along to my choice of rather iffy music. Mind you doing that is becoming rather problematical these days as the slightest bump in the road upsets the car's MP3 player.

I got to work and had a rather better day than yesterday.

 

Half way through the afternoon “er indoors ^TM” sent a message. Fudge *had* calmed down during his day in dog hospital and the veterinary nurses were able to get a blood pressure reading which wasn't through the roof because of his being stressed out. He hasn't got massively high blood pressure. So that was a result.... or was it? If he had really high blood pressure then that could be medicated and would ease his kidney issues. But as he hasn't got high blood pressure he stays on the same medications.

He's currently at stage two kidney disease which isn't as bad as it might be... really

 

I came home to pancakes for dinner. Apparently today is “Candlemas” and you scoff pancakes on Candlemas. And we discovered that dogs particularly like pancakes.

One lives and learns…

1 February 2021 (Monday) - And Another Late Shift

I woke feeling full of energy and raring to go only to find it was seven minutes past two. After what seemed to be a pitched battle with Pogo to secure some bed space I finally got back to sleep.

I came downstairs to find Sid had already crapped on the lino so I cleared his turds and left him asleep whilst I had a shave. I came out if the bathroom to find he’d crapped some more. I sighed…

 

After I’d wasted ten minutes trying to find what “er indoors ^TM” had done with my sandwich box I wrapped today’s lunch in tin foil then peered into the Internet as I scoffed toast. There were a few memes about Monday and going back to work and the weekend being over. One advantage of my seemingly random work pattern is that finding myself often working weekends, I rarely get that “Monday feeling”; in fact having just had a “normal weekend” in that I left work on Friday and went back today was something of a novelty.

 

I drove the dogs over to Great Chart where we had a little walk up to the flood and back again. It was flooded when we last walked there a few weeks ago, and that flood hasn't subsided at all. I'm not complaining though; it seems to be putting people off of walking in the area, which means for a much less stressful walk for us. We only met one other person over there today, and none of the dogs were bothered by her at all.

Mind you Fudge struggles with our Great Chart walk - mentally, not physically. Our standard walks are basically one of two sorts. Either vaguely circular , or linear there-and-back-again. Fudge cannot cope with the linear walks; clearly they mess with his brain. Take today's walk for example. We walked from the village up to the flood where Pogo, Treacle and I turned around and came back again. Fudge stopped at the water's edge. He alternately looked forward into the water and backward watching us going back the way from which we had come. He looked at me with a "WTF are you doing?" expression; he *really* doesn't understand a there-and-back-again walk.

 

We came home; the dogs devoured their brekkie. Getting Fudge to eat takes some doing; the walk worked up an appetite.

I then drove down to Hastings to visit mum. She's now got a hospital bed in her front room. She seemed rather tired and sleepy; I stayed with her for an hour or so, then headed off toward Maidstone.

 

As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about newspapers and social media and the power these things have to influence public opinion. The idea was floated that maybe newspaper publishers and social media platforms might be more public-spirited and socially aware; they might like to report more on fact and less on speculation and fake news. The idea didn't actually get laughed at, but does no-one  realise that the whole point of Facebook and Twitter and the morning newspaper is to make money? It isn't to give a balanced and factual view of today's world. It is to turn a fast buck for the owner. And consequently the more radical and extreme their output, the more the newspapers sell and the more the on-line advertising gets seen.

It has been this way ever since the first ever newspaper was printed.

We've left it rather late to expect impartial coverage, haven't we?

  

I got to work, and half-way through a rather busy shift I got the news that mum has been admitted to the hospice.