I slept like a log, but
still woke feeling like death warmed up. An after-effect of the night working?
Perhaps. Mind you I quite like the night work (for all that I whinge about it). Perhaps I might sleep better if I
could sleep for longer and not wake utterly unable to breathe. I’ve often felt
that I would be better having two sleeps a day of four hours rather than trying
to do it all in one go.
I got up and saw a
lovely day outside. I messaged "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" to
see if she fancied taking the dogs for a walk, then made myself some toast. As
I scoffed it I looked at the Internet and had a wry smile. Someone (I won’t say who) had posted one of those
memes on Facebook about how stupid other people are. I felt this was rather
ironic bearing in mind the frankly idiotic drivel this chap posts on a regular
basis.
I then got a little cross with people posting rather nasty
and hateful racist rubbish. So many times I read crap about how immigrant
families live high on the hog at the expense of British families. Every single
story posted about this on Facebook has been shown to be a malicious
fabrication, but still people persist in propagating these lies.
I got the dogs organized and we went round to Newtown
where we met up with "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" and "Stormageddon - Bringer of
Destruction TM". We thought about all sorts of walks, but
she had a dodgy neck, so we just had a short-ish walk to the play park in South
Willesborough and back. As we walked I taught "Stormageddon - Bringer
of Destruction TM" the “Granddad
Song of Aeroplanes” and we sang it together several times. For those of my
loyal readers who don’t know this song, it goes “AEROPLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANE” (shouted *very* loudly).
With
walk (and song) done we came home,
and I got the strimmer out and finished the lawn mowing which I started on
Monday. Or that is I started strimming. I had to give up and harvest the dog
turds before I could do the job properly. Bearing in mind I cleared the garden
of dog dung on Monday and have walked my hounds twice daily on the intervening
three days (when they both crapped like
things possessed), how is it possible for there to be so many poops in the
back garden? Are other dogs coming along for a dump? I can’t think of any other
explanation.
I
then loaded up a car full of rubbish and went on a little journey. Firstly to
B&Q for a new bucket (how do I break
so many buckets?) and some strimmer cable. Hopefully this stuff will be a
bit stronger. Mind you, what is it with the car park at B&Q? How can a shop
which has so few customers have so many cars in the car park?
I
then went to the tip to empty the rubbish, and came back via Matalan. I got a
pair of trousers and a shirt and spent fifteen minutes chatting with an ex
cub’s mum. I stopped off at the co-op for lunch, and as the rain started I
scoffed my scran and watched episodes of “The
Mighty Boosh” on Netflix until I fell asleep.
I
woke, and spent an hour or so doing dull CPD until the nice man from Everest
arrived. Having spent a small fortune on a new front door a few years ago the
letterbox flap fell off a couple of weeks ago. I wasn’t impressed, but being
the sort of saddo who keeps a diary I was able to see exactly when we got the
new front door. It was nearly nine years ago (5th June 2009) so I suppose nine years isn’t bad. I
wonder if the thing was overworked with all the junk mail we get? Perhaps I
should put up a sign saying we don’t want any.
The
nice man from Everest fitted a new letterbox for me; it was still under
warranty. The nice man from Everest did fart quite a bit too, but with the
front door wide open it probably wasn’t as bad as it might have been.
"er indoors TM" came home and we
drove down to Folkestone. Seeing it was Jose’s birthday we had coffee and cake
and we put the world to rights….
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