The clocks went back an hour
last night. They do this every year, I can’t help but wonder why? The mornings
are lighter (for a few weeks) but the evenings get darker earlier. The
total length of daylight remains the same. What does it actually achieve?
Realistically everyone is just out of sorts for a few weeks.
If we *really* could turn
the clocks back I would turn them back to 1981 and try a bit (lot)
harder at school.
Over brekkie I looked out of the
window. The heavy overnight rain had given way to a rather bright morning. I
was rather sad that we’d not arranged a walk for today, but the BBC weather
forecast said it would rain later. And (it has to be said) the BBC
weather forecast is definitive. In cases of discrepancy, reality has it wrong.
As I devoured my toast I had a
look-see at the Internet. I think we were right not to have gone to yesterday’s
geo-event all those miles away. From what I could see and read I formed the
distinct impression that the whole thing was some sort of macho competition to
see who could endure the cold the longest. They had near-freezing temperatures
and sleet.
Even the shops and stalls were
in open-air event shelters.
I got the leads on the dogs and
we went for a walk round the park. As it was cold I put on a coat I’ve not worn
for a while. There was a packet of mints in the pocket that had a “best
before” date of last week.
We got to the park just as the
children’s park run was finishing. I forgot that happens every Sunday. I don’t
often go round the park when the children’s park run is happening, but when it
does, it follows the same format. Various jogging enthusiasts cajole, bully and
force two or three dozen children to run round the park The children make no
secret that they don’t want to run round the park and are (this time of year)
clearly very cold. Today was no exception; the poor kids *really* didn’t
want to be forced to run round the park.
We also met another child as we
walked. This one (on seeing my dogs) screamed “sausage dog sausage
dog sausage dog” in a rather shrill voice and sprinted at them. Treacle ran
in terror, and before I could do anything she tried to seize Fudge. I shouted
at Fudge not to react, and it was only at this point that the idiot child’s
mother (who seemed equally idiotic) seemed to feel that I might have
anything to do with the dogs. I politely explained that if you shriek at a dog,
run at it and then grab it roughly, it is not unreasonable to expect to get
bitten. This revelation had clearly never occurred to the mother.
I wonder if the child got home
without being bitten?
Once home "er indoors TM" made me a cuppa
and gave me some choccies that had a best before date of six months ago.
Chocolate is wasted on "er indoors TM". The whole
point of chocolate is to keep eating it until you feel sick. When she gets some
she has one bite a week until the stuff is six months past its best at which
time it gets fed to me. And I then scoff the lot in one fell swoop.
As I scoffed choccie and drank coffee I fought with my
lap-top. The anti-virus kept turning itself off. The suggested cure was a
re-installation. After a lot of re-booting I *think* all is now well. The acid test for an anti-virus is to have
a look at websites of nudey ladies without any clothes on… I think I’ll pass on
that.
We left home just after the
hailstorm passed. The BBC had said the weather was going to take a turn for the
worse. And it did. Torrential rain started within minutes of driving away.
Pausing only briefly in Boxley to get the number of an electrical sub-station (as
one does) we drove out to the Waggon at Hale in Chatham. Sometimes in my
world we have a crafty half. Sometimes we have a good old fashioned booze up.
Today was Nick’s birthday bash and we
had afternoon tea. Posh sandwiches – smoked salmon, cucumber, ham
and mustard. Scones and jam. All sorts of petits-four. And even coffee for
those of us (me) who aren’t overly fond of tea.
It was odd – the sandwiches and
cakes and stuff really were oh-so dainty, but I scoffed enough to make myself
feel quite stuffed. I’m very greedy like that. Everyone else was showing
restraint and there was me (probably) oldest one there shovelling food
into my face in much the same way as my grandsons would (granddaughter
wouldn’t !!)
We came home through the dark and the rain. Once
home "er indoors TM" set off bowling and I did some more of
my archeoastronomy course, then sparked up Netflix and watched something that "My
Boy TM" said I might like. “Prison Break”
is entertaining enough. So far it is not unlike “Orange is the New Black” but
without the seemingly endless gratuitous lesbianism.
It
will do until something better comes along…
