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1 December 2020
(Tuesday) - Robot Crocodiles from Outer Space
I had a very restless night in which I was
constantly waiting for my father to give me a lift somewhere or other. Having
given up driving, he was never going to pick me up. I knew that, but it
didn't stop me waiting though. Sometimes I wonder if my dreams are the
battleground between my brain and the voices in my head. If so, I wish they’d
declare a truce. Before going downstairs I opened the first
window of my Lego advent calendar and had a "WTF is that"
moment. For the last eleven years I've bought a Lego Advent Calendar and been
very good and not opened it a moment before I should. But the thing's
Facebook page has quite a following and by not giving myself a few months
grace I really do make a rod for my own back. I made myself a bowl of granola, and as Sid
snored I watched another episode of "People Just Do Nothing"
in which it was Valentine's Day. Or "Valling
Times" as our heroes would have us believe, then checked out the
Internet. Last night I saw that the
first puzzle in my Kings Wood series of geocaches has been found
eighty-three times. As those eighty-three people walked round they went
through the play zone of a Wherigo
which takes about five minutes to play, and involves a hundred-yard detour to
go get the final pot. But only fifty-three people did that. Thirty people
didn’t bother with it. According to Google ninety-five per cent of
the population have a mobile phone and so have the necessary equipment. The
apps are free. So why don’t people do the Wherigos?
I asked on one of the local geocaching pages. I got the answer I was pretty
much expecting. Those that do Wherigos love them.
Those that don't do them have all pretty much given up on them before they
have even started. Why did I ask? - I did have plans to make more
Wherigos for the New Year. Will I in the light of
what I have been told? Probably... I set off for work and was again amazed at
some of the terrible driving around Ashford. Why drive with so little
consideration for other road users when you have got "VJ Technology"
emblazoned in three-feet high letters on the side of your van, or when your
number plate is so distinctive? (HY GARY S - whoever you are). As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the
radio were talking about how the Scottish National Party are angling for
another independence referendum. Financially it makes no sense at all, but
from a viewpoint of nationalistic jingoism and hating the Sassenachs it makes
perfect sense. Rather like Brexit. And there was a lot of talk about how the
Prime Minister is facing a rebellion of Conservative MPs who are planning to
vote against his latest COVID-19 legislations. The rebel MPs are faced with
choosing between what their leader wants and what their constituents want. On
the one hand Boris might not advance their careers if they go against him. On
the other hand if they upset the electorate they won't even have a job next
time. Heaven forbid they might do what is best for the national interest
rather than their own. I got to work, and had something of a "macrocytosis"
day. It made a change from yesterday which was very much a "reactive
lymphocyte" day. But I did spend quite a while pondering on just
what it was that I'd had in my Lego Advent Calendar. I considered looking it
up on the Internet, but that would be cheating. An early start made for an early finish, but
by the time I’d got some petrol it was already getting dark. I thought about
taking the hounds out, but it is hard enough work in broad daylight. Instead
I had a shower and took a photo of what I’d got out of the Advent Calendar.
It would seem that the consensus of opinion is that it is some sort of boat,
but in the end I went with what the voices in my head had told me. And from a
literary point of view I suspect I can do far more with robot crocodiles from
outer space than I can with a boat. But bearing in mind I have absolutely no
idea what is to come over the next three (and a bit) weeks I may well
regret that rash decision. You can see today’s instalment of the Advent
Calendar by
clicking here. Quite a few people have already done so… |
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2 December 2020
(Wednesday) - Paying Too Much?
Sid was particularly shouty this morning. I
wonder what that was all about. He eventually shut up and I scoffed a bowl of
muesli whilst watching an episode of “People Just Do Nothing” before
sparking up my lap-top. Last night I saw a friend was posting on
Facebook about changing his electricity and gas supplier. Earlier in the year
I spent an age investigating the cheapest available option and went with…
let’s just say the company I’d been with for years. Having signed up for what
really was the cheapest deal I could find I’m now locked in until April 2022,
and am paying about three or four times what I would be paying with Octopus
Energy. But this reminded me that three weeks ago I contacted the power
company because my smart meter was playing up and they still hadn’t replied.
I logged into my account with that power company last night and it told me
that my monthly estimated energy costs were almost (but not quite)
thirty thousand pounds. Unfortunately their live chat thingy was broken. I
sent them a message via WhatsApp (!) as their website suggested. This
morning as I scoffed my brekkie they told me that their waiting times were
longer than expected and that they would be with me as soon as possible. I also saw my Lego Advent Calendar had got
quite a few “likes” but reading the comments I don’t think that all of
the people seeing the post quite understood what it was about. Perhaps they
don’t have voices in their heads to explain it to them? I checked my emails – I had a “Needs
Maintenance” request on one of my geocaches. Apparently the plastic bag
in which I had put the paper log had gone from one of the pots I’d hidden.
For those of my loyal readers who don’t hunt Tupperware, this is possibly the
most trivial reason imaginable to demand that I drop everything to make an
utterly unnecessary maintenance trip. And the same person wrote “didn’t
find” logs on caches that she didn’t find because she’d given up and gone
home because it was raining. I had a whinge about it on the local Facebook
geocaching page and found myself squabbling with two snowflakes who had never
before posted there. Once I'd scraped the ice off of my car I set
off to work. As I drove the pundits on the radio were spouting their usual
drivel. The Chinese have landed a probe on the Moon,
and intend to fetch some Moon rocks back to Earth. They will come in handy
seeing how the Americans have lost one hundred and
eighty-four of theirs. There was also talk of the COVID-19 vaccine
that today was licenced
for public use in the UK. There are a lot of people who are sceptical
about this and feel that the thing has been rushed. I would ask them
specifically what was wrong with the testing regime that the MHRA employed,
and specifically what further testing they would like to see. (Waving
hands in the air and vaguely saying "more testing" because they
don't have the faintest idea, or spouting crackpot conspiracy theories aren't
acceptable answers here) And I was rather bemused as to why the BBC
would waste valuable peak-time air-time on today's "Thought For The Day"
in which some archdeacon or other prattled on for two minutes about how nice
Christmas card are. Work was much the same as ever. I did my bit
and came home again. I put some washing in, and "er indoors TM"
got KFC for dinner. She then vanished upstairs to do a Zoom meeting with her
pals. I sparked up Netflix and watched a film. Or half of a film. “Adult Life Skills”
was a total load of old tripe which I turned off half-way through. Others
might disagree with me - if ever you get the chance to watch “Adult Life
Skills” why not give it a go. You might like it. I didn’t. Oh – and I’m still waiting to hear back about
my smart meter… |
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3 December 2020
(Thursday) - Messaging Rohit
I had one of those terrible nights in which
having woken feeling full of energy at twenty past one, I then lay awake for
much of the rest of the night. I gave up trying to sleep and opened my
Lego Advent Calendar and had another "WTF is that"
moment. There are a *lot* of those with Lego Advent Calendars. I then
made myself feel rather ill by doing a COVID-19 test. To be sure of a proper
result you really have to ram the swab right up the nose. And judging by how
much my eyes watered I don't think I could have rammed it much further. But
after half an hour's incubation it came out negative, which was probably for
the best. I watched an episode of "People Just
Do Nothing" which would be hilarious if it clearly wasn't based on
so many people that I have met, then got myself ready for work. It takes some
doing in these dark mornings. I dare not wake "er indoors TM"
or the wolf-pack, but have you ever tried to select a pair of shoes (out of
half a dozen) in the dark? As I drove to work the pundits on the radio
were broadcasting excerpts from "Prime Minister's Question Time".
I was reminded of my days at the Hastings Academy for Budding Geniuses/ Back
in the day I would go to the Junior Debating Society (it took me years to
work out why everyone referred to it as "mas-"!). There we were
taught the rudiments of civilised debate, and how to prove that black was
white by talking loudly and confidently and with an utter disregard for any (so-called)
fact that might go against your point of view. Parliament operates in exactly
that way. Loads of clever-sounding talk, much of it with no basis in reality,
and none of it actually achieving anything. There are probably worse ways to
run a country, but there certainly must be better ones. There was a lot of talk about Jersey. The
head honchos at Jersey and at Guernsey have apparently had a falling-out over
the best way to control the COVID-19 pandemic. With Guernsey (supposedly)
not having a single case at the moment and Jersey now entering a one-month
lockdown (to ruin Christmas and the New Year) I think we now see who
had the right idea. There was also talk about the collapse of the
department store "Debenhams". One of their suppliers was
wheeled on. The chap talking would have done well in Parliament; he took
umbrage at being called a "supplier" - he led a “retail
focussed solution provider group”(!). But taking out the
buzz-words and management catchphrases he basically said that the high street
shops are going to have to change. He's got a point. "er indoors TM"
told me what she wanted for Christmas on Sunday, and I had Amazon deliver it
long before I would have had the chance to go shopping. Or take a comic shop
that used to be in Canterbury which for years was a regular haunt. One day (about
fifteen years ago) the chap running it realised that all of his profit
was coming from mail-order and on-line sales, and having a physical shop was
actually costing him money. Or take the vineyard's shop on the way to Pembury
which charges way over the odds. When I buy something in a physical shop I
have to make a special journey costing me time and money, and I am also
paying for the running costs of that shop. Supporting local businesses is all
very well... but why are we supporting something which is expensive and
inconvenient? I got to work for the early shift. As I
started so my phone beeped. Rohit from the power company had sent me a
message via WhatsApp. As the day went on messages went to and fro in which she asked the same questions that all her
predecessors had asked, and I gave the same answers time and again. After
several hours she commented that she was unable to read the meter remotely...
which is one part of the problem. She suggested I read it myself and put the
readings on to their web site...which is the other part of the problem. Rohit was happy that the problem was now
resolved, and asked if there was anything else she could do. She seemed
rather miffed when I replied that the problem was not resolved and she might
arrange replacement of the smart meter - like I asked for in the first place. Once home I messaged her with the reading
from the gas meter. The reading was (and still is) “NA”, but Rohhit didn’t reply. Instead one of their automated bots
did. So it looks like I shall have to go through all the same conversation
again tomorrow… On the plus side I saw a smiley neutrophil
down my microscope today… I had intended to go on a Munzee
resuscitation mission after the early shift, but it was dark and pouring
hard. You know the rain is bad when the dogs refuse to go out. I’m so glad we
got the roof sorted last weekend. I wonder what’s for dinner…? |
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4 December 2020
(Friday) - Snow
I slept for maybe an hour longer than I did
last night, but still was wide awake far too early. I gave up trying to sleep
at half past four and came downstairs. Sid asked to go out – bearing in mind
his track record where anything potty-related is concerned I saw this as a
result. He went out – despite the blizzard that was raging. Snow had been
forecast, and snowing it was. I would have had some granola for brekkie,
but having forgotten to get milk yesterday, I roughed it with toast and
watched an episode of “People Just Do Nothing” in which our hero made
himself a sandwich, but didn’t cut the crusts off of the bread because life
is too short. He later regretted that decision. I then sparked up the lap-top and with a little
time on my hands I went through the list of groups I follow on Facebook and
left most of them. Dogs, astronomy, sci-fi, painting, Lego, kites, Radio 4,
Sparks, 1970s TV adverts, fishing, local travel… no matter what the subject,
it is all one big argument and I’m sick of the arguments. You would think
that people wouldn’t be so quick to squabble, wouldn’t you? I’ve also (with a heavy heart) given
up on one of the local geocaching groups. Having been such a big part of my
life for so long it wasn’t an easy decision. Over the years I’ve organised so
much for that group – the rainbow
trip to London was just one of many trips to London, the trip to
Red Sands fort, the trip to Cornwall, the trip to France, seemingly
endless mid-week get-togethers. Over the years there were so many events and
activities. But that group isn’t what it once was. Originally it was a
group of friends, but more and more the people who made it fun have left and
been replaced with people who don’t know the other group members and/or don’t
socialise and/or live hundreds of miles away and are are
seemingly only looking for a fight. (Which is exactly what happened with
the snake club and the kite club and the astro club).
I’ve heard from several friends who have also left the local geocaching
Facebook group since they too have felt they have been forced out. The
squabble I had last night (in which a rather petty posting was blown out
of all proportion) is all now sorted, but it was the last straw for me.
It has been suggested that I set up a group
on Facebook for those who used to make it fun. I’m not keen on the idea… I
don’t have the enthusiasm any more. I shall stick to hunting Tupperware with
a small group of friends. Perhaps things might perk up again once lockdown is
over. With a much-trimmed selection of stuff to
peruse, the Internet was (suddenly) a much better place. I gave it a
few minutes, sent out birthday wishes and then opened up today’s window of my
Advent Calendar. A yellow lorry – what was I supposed to say about that?
Eventually I
had an idea. Remembering the snow I'd seen earlier I thought
I might set off to work a tad earlier than usual. It was as well that I did.
I got to the motorway to find the slip road closed, and the road back to the
A20 was queued right back and at a standstill. I had this brilliant idea that
I might head to Challock, turn left and pick up the
A20 at Charing. It would have been a more brilliant idea had (seemingly) ten
thousand other people not had it too. But despite them (and two sets of
traffic lights on the A20) I eventually got where I was going. As I drove the pundits on the radio were
talking all sort of drivel as they do. Having become the first country in the
world to agree that the COVID-19 vaccine is
suitable for use, some British MP has wound up the European Union by
claiming that this is a success story for Brexit and that the European
regulators are crap. And to wind it all up further the American Presidential
medical advisor Dr. Anthony Fauci
has denied that he has cast doubts on the British testing protocols. Unfortunately all this has done is to
encourage the crackpot anti-vax brigade. Fortunately social media is trying to
shut them up but it speaks volumes about our society that people believe
such dangerous and potentially deadly drivel. There was also talk about how a no-deal Brexit
is looking more and more likely. That wasn't supposed to happen, was it? And the Bank of England have lost fifty
billion quid in cash. From what was being said on the radio I don't know
what was the most worrying - that they've lost fifty billion quid, or that no
one seems to be bothered about it. Having taken two hours to do a forty minute
journey I got to work and humbly apologised to the poor person who'd been on
all night and had had to wait for me. As I did my bit so my phone beeped from time
to time. Sarah (this time) from the power company was messaging me. Apparently
Rohit misled me yesterday when she said they'd fixed the broken smart meter.
The thing remains broken, but Sarah gave me instructions on how to read it. I
pointed out that the whole idea of a smart meter is that I don't have to read
it; it gets read remotely. I was told this was the only way to get a reading.
I shall send them a reading tomorrow (when I can get to the meter in
daylight) and we'll see what happens. As I worked I also kept looking at the travel
news. It seemed that a lorry had jack-knifed earlier (which had closed the
motorway) but opinion was divided as to whether the motorway had been
opened or not. Eventually I hit on the idea of calling up the webcams and seeing
there was traffic on the motorway I decided to chance it. Looking back I’d seen traffic on the
eastbound carriageway, and bearing in mind how I was going east, that was all
I cared about. As I drove east, not another vehicle came up the westbound
carriageway. That was still closed. I wonder if it will be open tomorrow
morning? I hope so. I got home, made a cuppa for me and "er
indoors TM", and put a load of shirts in to wash. Double
the amount I was intending – I obviously forgot to do my shirts last week. It
is just as well I’ve got loads, isn’t it? "er indoors TM"
went shopping whilst I ironed, and when she came home we scoffed dinner
whilst watching this week’s Star Trek: Discovery. This is a show which
seems to be either very good or very bad; I quite liked this evening’s
episode. I think I shall have an early night – I’m
feeling a bit under the weather. |
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5 December 2020
(Saturday) - Watching Telly
Over a brekkie of toast and honey I watched
an episode of “People Just Do Nothing” in which our heroes got
married. They had a pony at the wedding, but they dad to get it out of the church
at the earliest opportunity as it had been fed one McDonalds too many on the
way there and the bucket probably wouldn’t have been big enough for what was
coming. For all that I find Facebook invaluable to
photo storage and keeping up to date with what friends are doing, it does
wind me up. This morning it wasn’t the continual squabbles, it was the
adverts. I seem to be getting a *lot* of adverts for two particular
companies. “Calzedonia” which features young
ladies with legs all the way up to their bums, and “Intimissimi”
which specialises in nearly nudey ladies in saucy
undercrackers. Bearing in mind I’m on a warning from the Facebook Feds for
posting a photo of the porn-mongers who tried to scam me over a year ago, I
think there’s something of the pot calling the kettle black going on here. I opened my Lego Advent
Calendar and went to work. As I drove up the (fortunately open)
motorway the pundits on the radio were talking about all the people whose
Christmases are now stuffed up. With trains enforcing social distancing, many
of the trains on the run-up to Christmas (and after it) having been
taking bookings for the greatly reduced number of seats they have, and pretty
much all the seats in all the trains in the country are booked for this month
with hundreds (if not thousands) of people being unable to get train
tickets now. What with petrol cars going and short-range
electric cars clearly being the vision of the future, this lifestyle of
travelling to and fro hundreds of miles is clearly
going to become a thing of the past. Here’s a thought… there has been a lot of
talk about electric cars in the news recently. At the moment they seem to
have one major disadvantage over “normal” car in that they have a much
shorter range. I wonder how they will cope in a day like yesterday. Suddenly
faced with a journey time of double what was being expected, will driving
slower use more battery power? Will major traffic jams of the future be
seriously worsened by loads of electric cars conking out? Those who know
about these things assure me they won’t… but I remain unconvinced. I got to work and treated myself to a cooked
breakfast. It was rather good. Suitably replete I went in to work and had a
rather good morning. But I was only working the morning today. I came home
whilst it was still light. I chased Sid round the garden where he “did”
nothing. I took the other three dogs round the block, and came home to a lino
awash with Sid turds. Whilst I was clearing dog turds I thought I
might as well see if there were many to be harvested from the garden. There were. So many people tell me they are so jealous of
my wolf-pack. I must admit that the photos I post of them can be misleading.
It does look rather fun having dogs playing, taking them for major hikes in
the countryside, taking photos of them sleeping on your lap… and then there
are all the turds. With "er indoors TM"
out shopping with "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" I put
the telly on and watched a film. I’ve not seen “The
Railway Children” before. It was a rather good film. As was the movie
of “Porridge”
which came after it. Having worked for six days on the trot I’m
worn out. My shift pattern usually only has three days at a time. I could do
with an early night… bet I don’t have one. |
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6 December 2020
(Sunday) - Out in the Sticks
The dogs slept well, but I didn’t. I woke a couple
of times every hour with the most intense headaches. What was that all about? I came downstairs to a sea of turds. Poor Sid
doesn’t like being shut out of the carpeted areas at night, but we have
little choice. I sent him outside where he tiddled like a thing possessed;
fortunately it is only dung with which he has problems. The joy of
dogs… I opened my Lego
Advent Calendar and had another “WTF” moment, then made toast. I
opened a fresh pot of margarine as Pogo ate the last one last night, then
sparked up my lap-top. I had a message to tell me I’d been tagged in a post
on the national geocaching page. There is a problem in that some trackable
codes have been made public on a spoiler list. Something similar happened to
me a while ago. There is a chap in Australia who delights in doing this. He
either thinks he is providing a public service by giving these spoilers, or
he gets off on the reactions he sparks on various Internet forums. In the
past I used to rise to the bait with the best of them. Today I don’t even
follow that page anymore. Facebook told me a friend had a birthday
today… I suppose he did, but he died last January. Did you know that Facebook
allows you to assign someone who can pull the plug on your Facebook account
when you die? I wonder what happens to all the other accounts – do they just
stay there for evermore? I suppose (if nothing else) they are a little
keepsake. I programmed “Hannah” for the day, we
got ourselves organised, and drove out to the middle of nowhere. Earlier in the year I hid a series of
geocaches which really were out in the sticks, and I thought it wouldn’t be a
bad idea to see if they were still there. Following tier three rules we met Karl,
Tracey and Charlotte who helped us do a geo-maintenance run. We had a mostly good walk; it was certainly a
lot muddier than when I put the series out in July. And there were a lot more
pheasants too. Treacle got rather over-excited about them, and Fudge went
missing for half an hour in pursuit of them. Amazingly Pogo is fast becoming
the best behaved of the three. Geocache-wise it was an eye-opener. Having
put the caches out myself, quite a few had moved to different locations.
Maybe only a few feet away from where I’d left them but had definitely moved.
And half a dozen had been replaced. There are those who would lay eggs about
that, and rightly so since according to the rules people shouldn’t do that,
but I wish I knew who had replaced them so I could thank them. Each replaced
geocache represented a journey I didn’t have to make to go out to replace it
myself. And knowing where they were all supposed to
be certainly made for a quicker walk. I took
a few photos as we walked. Once home the dogs had a bath (they were
filthy), and I posted photos to the Internet and amended some of the
cache descriptions from how I’d created them to how they have become. I phoned my mum… she’s not at all well. She’s
bearing up well bearing in mind how ill she is. Like pretty much everyone
else she has no understanding of what I do at work and assumes I am some sort
of doctor (I am NOT!), and she asked me how long I thought she had
left. How do you answer that? "er indoors TM" boiled up a
very good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching the third episode of
“Raised
By Wolves” – a rather good sci-fi series. I won’t give any spoilers,
but it is rather reminiscent of Earth 2 and BattleStar
Galactica. It was rather good to have dinner without an
audience. Rather then scrounging, all dogs were
fast asleep. Today’s walk has rather worn them all out. It has worn me out too… and my face is
glowing. I’ve caught the sun today… three (and a bit) weeks before
Christmas. |
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7 December 2020
(Monday) - Before the Night Shift
Had I been allowed a fair share of the duvet
I might have had a better night. I made the most of what I could get though. I got up shortly after seven o’clock,
chivvied Sid into the garden and cleared that which he’d left on the lino
overnight before making myself some toast and having my morning look at the
Internet. A family member was again posting very misleading and factually
inaccurate rubbish about 5G technology. One of the articles he was posting
was using reasoning along the lines of “staring into the sun makes you
blind therefore 60-watt light bulbs should be banned”. So many people do
this sort of thing. Why do so many people re-post scurrilous lies without
fact-checking anything first? "er indoors TM" came downstairs
with the dogs. Fudge seemed particularly under the weather. He was very
subdued and was trembling. He sat with me for a few minutes before going back
to bed. But the moment he realised I was planning on going for a little work
he suddenly perked up. I drove the dogs out to Great Chart. As I
drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing the new head honcho at the Natural
History Museum. The fellow sounded very interesting. He was passionate
about his new role. But… His last job was being the boss of Amazon in the UK
and the chairman of the British Heart Foundation. He has previously held
senior roles in Government, worked as a partner at consultancy firm McKinsey,
was Board Director at Asda-Walmart and was founder of internet start-up Blueheath (the first ever Internet-enabled grocery
wholesaler). This chap seems to typify those who are running the country
these days – he is a professional manager. Gone are the days when you start
at the bottom of whatever it is you do and work up. These days you get a
qualification in management and go straight in calling the shots. Perhaps
that is somewhere else where I went wrong? We got to Great Chart (it didn’t take long)
and pausing only briefly to replace a missing geocache we walked along the
Greensand Way. We walked this stretch a week or so ago and found we couldn’t
get as far as the river since it was flooded. It was still flooded today, but
we got enough of a walk today. It was rather pretty in the thick fog. Once home I popped up to the corner shop to
get pastries for our morning coffee, then did my COVID-19 testing. There has been a lot of doubt cast
on these self-testing kits, mainly because people doing the tests don’t ram
the swabs quite far enough up their noses. I can understand why – it isn’t
nice. I then sat down with my laptop and looked at
my accounts. Just a quick look today… not *too* shabby at the moment
but once the bill for the roof comes in, and when the power company finally
sort themselves out I’m sure things will be different. I wrote up a little CPD, then took myself
off to bed for the afternoon. When I woke I found I had another message
from the power company. Swati (this time) asked the same old questions
that I have been asked every day for the last week. I spent quarter of an
hour shivering outside with the gas meter scrolling through the current time,
the current date and the number that they rejected. Eventually I told Swati (politely
but firmly) that the gas meter readings since February have been
estimated and that the whole idea of a Smart Meter is that there should be no
guesswork. I also told her that we had established via the Live Chat on
October 24th (some six weeks ago) that the meter needed
repair and that someone was supposed to be coming out to fix it. I expect someone else will be in touch again
tomorrow and we will go thought the whole process again. I told the world about what I got in my Lego
Advent Calendar today, then smiled at "er indoors TM"
in the hope of getting some dinner. I’m off to the night shift in a bit. This one
is an extra – I volunteered for it… |
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December 2020 (Tuesday)
- Saving Money (?)
As I drove home the pundits on the radio were
talking about how the Prime Minister is off to Brussels himself to sort out a
post-Brexit deal. Let’s hope it’s a good one With less than a minute on Google you can
show that (so far) Brexit
has cost more than the
Apollo program. Britain could have stayed in the European Union, have put
twelve British astronauts on the Moon, and still be financially better off
than we are today. Did anyone know this at the time of the referendum? I
suspect some did, but their opinion was given no more value than anyone
else’s. A *lot* of people have since said they voted “out”
because they thought Brexit was the cheap option. (Mind you a *lot* of
people have since said they voted “out” because they thought Brexit was the
right thing to do regardless of cost – was it? Who can tell?). Much the same is probably true about today’s
announcement of the start of the rollout of the COVID-19
vaccine. Those who actually know what they are talking about are finding that
their opinion is worth no more than those who feel the whole thing is one big
scam. We really do have the words of the Minister for Health being regarded
as of no more value than anyone who fancies wearing a tin-foil helmet. Was Brexit done as a cost-saving or a
political move? Are vaccines life-saving or a form of governmental control? Surely the time has come to do away with
democracy until those doing the voting are given correct information and can
understand what the consequences of their voting. I took the dogs down to Orlestone
Woods for a walk. The woods were rather busy today. Often we get there early enough
so as to not meet anyone else. We met six other dog walkers today. We met the
little old lady with the poodle and Jack Russell. We met the nice lady with (what
I can only describe as) the floofy spacehopper. We met a young lad with three dogs (we’d not
met him before – we had a good chat). We met the posh lady with the
Labradors (Fudge tried to “do the dirty deed” with them), we met the
nice man with the Red Setters (they told Fudge off when he tried to
“do the dirty deed” with them) and we met the old dog in his all-terrain
push chair. Pogo barked at all of them; not one took umbrage. We came home; I opened my
Advent Calendar then went to bed for a couple of hours and got up to a
message from the power company. They had conceded defeat with the Smart Meter
issue and gave me a number to ring so that the dedicated Smart Meter team
could deal with it. After a while I got through to what I can only describe
as an idiot who was barely capable of reading the script she’d been given.
After a very frustrating twenty minutes during which I went through the same
old spiel (that I have been through every day for the last week) she
put me on hold whilst she phoned the dedicated Smart Meter team. After a
further fifteen minutes she told me that “Andrea” from the dedicated
Smart Meter team would be phoning me back. I then ironed for a couple of hours whilst
watching episodes of “People Just Do Nothing” then spent an hour or so
on the phone. Consolidating the Sky TV, broadband, Netflix and my mobile into
the one account has saved me fifty quid a month. Add that to the two hundred
quid I saved on the year’s house buildings and contents insurance means I am quids in… The money I’ve saved can go toward the new
bathroom roof. I expect sorting out the new SIM card in my
mobile will be a mission in itself. That should be happening this week. The
broadband should be in place before Christmas, and the Sky-Q box gets
installed in a month or so. I’m hoping for great things here – millions of
other people change suppliers with no issues, so why am I so terrified of
change? "er indoors TM" boiled up a
rather good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching “Bake Off”
and washed down with a bottle of red wine. Perhaps the starter of Bailey’s
was a mistake, but the dogs certainly liked the stilton that came for afters… Needless to say, “Andrea” has not
phoned me back… |
|
9 December 2020
(Wednesday) - A Day Off
I slept like a log and was rather ambivalent
to see a turd-free kitchen floor. When there are turds I know that Sid is
empty, when there are not I know I will have to gather them once I’ve had a
shave. I chivvied Sid out where he tiddled, and after my shave there were no
turds. I saw that as a result. Mind you Sid was doing what I can only
describe as his “arse carousel” in which he sits on his backside and spins
like a merry-go-round with legs all over the place. He seems to enjoy doing
that, and gets up to quite a speed. I wish he wouldn’t. I made toast and peered into the Internet.
Since I had a major departure from most of the groups I follow (a few days
ago) Facebook was a much friendlier place. But still not without faults.
I saw that Facebook had told me that I had been wrong to report a blatant
advert by ladies of dubious morals who had been offering to “do the dirty
deed” for financial gain. Apparently that advert didn’t breach their
community standards even though just one click from that advert to you to
graphic photographs of rather unhygienic activities. I then had a little
look-see at my “Facebook support inbox”. Over the years I have
reported pornography, cruelty to animals, hate speech and all sorts of other
offensive posts that I have seen on Facebook. In every instance the Facebook
Feds have told me that whatever it is doesn’t breach their community
standards. However on a few occasions I have re-posted just the advert’s
photo (*without* any links) with a “sort this out Facebook”
comment, and each of those posts have earned me a formal warning from the
Facebook Feds. On my last formal warning they gave me the option to have my
case reviewed by their committee. Today I was told that their committee had
too many cases to review, and mine wasn’t selected for their scrutiny. Ho hum… I had a look at my emails. Over two hundred “found
it” logs on geocaches that I have hidden. I’ve been told off a few times
(admittedly in a good-natured way) that I don’t read these. I must
admit I don’t. I really don’t have the time to do so. I also saw a new puzzle cache had gone live on
Monday. It seemed to be on the way to work (Pembury work) and bearing
in mind I will be going there on Friday I thought that might break up my
journey. I looked at the puzzle and had the right answer in (quite
literally) less than a minute. I looked at the cache page again and saw
no one had yet logged a find. Could I be the First to Find? I was going to
take the dogs out anyway, so I got myself and the hounds organised and we
drove out to… I won’t give spoilers by saying where, but we were soon at the
designated parking spot. I was a little perturbed when I read a sign saying “please
don’t park in front of this gate” but I managed to get the car off the
road and not blocking the gate. My plan had been to let the dogs run whilst I
rummaged in the undergrowth, but on hearing pheasants I thought it best that
they stayed on their leads. I rummaged for quite a while before finally
finding what I was rummaging for. I really did take ten times longer (at
least) to find the cache than I did to solve the puzzle. And I was first
to find too… Result!! With cache found I thought about walking on
some more, but it was raining and Fudge was shivering so we came home. As I drove the Reith Lecture was
being broadcast on the radio. Ex-head honcho at the Bank of England Mark
Carney was talking about economics. I’m no expert on the subject but he
seemed to be contradicting himself. On the one hand he said that the country
needs financial wizz-kids to make loads of money.
On the other hand he also said that the country needs decent-minded people to
ensure the poor don’t get pissed upon. But what is the incentive to get loads
of money if you are only going to give it all away? I got home and loaded the car with rubbish. "er
indoors TM" had booked a slot at the tip for us today. We
had knacked coats, broken gazebos, loads of assorted rubbish, and half a
dozen bags of old carpet that we wanted rid of. I soon had the car full, and
set off to the tip… far too early. In this brave new world of coronageddon you have a time slot at the tip. You can’t
get there early or late, and I was far too early. So I wasted time by
replacing a missing geocache of mine, getting petrol, and doing some Munzee resuscitations on Hothfield Common whilst checking
the place out as a venue for future dog walks. I got to the tip and emptied the rubbish.
Just as I was about to leave so a chap walked past with a Harris Hawk. I got
chatting with him – he brings the hawk to the tip three times a week to scare
off the seagulls that otherwise would infest the place. Apparently the hawk
also has regular bookings at Sheerness docks and St Pancras railway station
too. I then dozed in front of the last episodes of
“People Just Do Nothing” and stayed awake for the first two episodes
of the new season of “Big Mouth” before telling the world about
today’s
Lego Advent adventure. Today was a day’s leave – it was surprisingly
busy. I wonder what’s for dinner… |
|
10 December 2020
(Thursday) - Another Day Off
As I scoffed toast I saw that my Facebook
feed has changed. Rather then being filled with
adverts for ladies underwear featuring scantily-clad young ladies, I am now
being bombarded with adverts for overpriced beer. For those of my loyal
readers who don’t drink the stuff, if you are thinking of getting a
beer-drinker a Christmas pressie, here’s a tip. If it says “craft beer”
and comes in a tin, forget it. There seems to be a growth industry in selling
half-pint tins at pint prices. I’m never going to buy either of them but
given the choice I’d rather see the pictures of the saucy ladies. Also I saw that (yet again) aliens
have been found. There have been negotiations for Earth to join their
federation which were supposedly held on Mars. Apparently the whole thing was
to be announced by Donald Trump but the Galactic Federation stepped in "to
prevent mass hysteria". Have you ever noticed that the political
affiliation “Federation” is a term which is only ever used in outer
space? Fudge was quivering as he sat with me. He’s
shivered a couple of times on recent walks where he gets cold, but he wasn’t
cold this morning. It says on the Internet (so it must be true) that
older dogs quiver when in pain; is his back playing him up again? But he soon
perked up when he got wind we were going out. But bearing in mind he has got
cold recently I insisted he wore his coat. He sulked for a few minutes, but
by the time we’d driven to Hemsted Forest he’d got
over it. Regular readers of this drivel may recall
that I hid a series of geocaches in the woods at Hemsted
Forest about eighteen months ago. Recently I had reports that three of them
had gone missing. With a day free, and dogs needing a walk I thought that I
might do a complete circuit of that geo-series today, sorting any issues as
we went. We had a relatively good walk. It was
incredibly muddy. About half a mile into the mud we met an idiot in his best
trainers and jeans, with mud all the way up to his knees and a dog who was
rather scatty (to say the least). At first he seemed rather frightened
that I had said hello to him. I got the distinct impression that he rarely (if
ever) walks his dog, and *never* visits woodlands. He commented
that he hadn’t come out prepared for the conditions… I smiled. Who wears
their best trainers in the woods in December? We met other dog walkers too –
we met a very friendly Bassett hound, and a little later we met two very
friendly Beagles. And my dogs were most indignant when their horse-poo-eating
was heckled by passing joggers. I replaced two of the caches that had been
reported as missing; the third was laying out in the open. And I replaced one
that had recent “Found It” logs that I couldn’t find. I checked that
all the others were fit for purpose, and (hopefully) I shouldn’t need
to go out there for some time. In fact with one hundred and sixteen finds
over eighteen months I think it is fair to say that the series has pretty
much run its course. Perhaps in the new year I might think about replacing
it. Possibly adding a second loop in the northern part of the woods. I
took a few photos whilst we walked. Once home I bathed the dogs then
posted the photos on-line whilst "er indoors TM"
sorted out some soup. I dozed in front of the telly until "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" and "Stormageddon - Bringer of
Destruction TM" came crashing through the front door.
They got the rats to pee all over my Lego town, scattered pomegranate
fragments all through the living room, churned the lawn to mud, and then set
off with “skinhead”. I’d not seen “skinhead” for a while – it
was good to catch up. I told the world about today’s
Lego adventure, and that was pretty much it for the day. A walk in the
mud and a sleep in front of the telly. Not a bad day off really… |
|
11 December 2020
(Friday) - Before the Late Shift
I slept like a log and woke feeling refreshed
and full of energy… at quarter past midnight. The rest of the night was
rather restless though. I then spent a little while re-writing the
puzzle for a puzzle geocache which I took on which is near Singleton Lake,
Last night I’d had a rather passive aggressive “did not find” log on
the thing, so I thought I’d better have a look at the problem. Mind you the
chap who wrote the rather nasty log is one who I would like to meet in real
life, if only to tell him to f… off to his face. This person obviously gets a
lot out of geocaching having found over thirteen thousand caches. However he,
she or it has only hidden twenty-seven caches. None of those have been hidden
in the last six years, and none are currently active. Taking a lot,
contributing nothing and always finding fault… this one typifies all that is
currently wrong with the noble art of hunting Tupperware. But if the cache *was* missing I had
to do something… either sort it or archive it. So I re-wrote the puzzle this
morning and took the dogs out to replace what was actually a missing cache. If nothing else it showed me that Singleton
Lake isn’t a good place to walk the dogs. I let them off the leads, and
within fifty yards they were back on the leads. The place was heaving with “precious
princess” dogs. A couple of people commented that they would like to try
having their dogs off the leads but didn’t dare, but what finished it for me
was the very small man with two rottweilers that were stronger than he was.
Urban dog walks are usually a disaster, and today’s was a disaster that was
narrowly averted. I replaced the missing geocache and we all
came home. Once home we had an entertaining few minutes
as we did the dogs’ flea treatments. It is easy enough to do. You open the
little tube of jollop and rub the jollop into the back of each dog’s neck. It
smells odd, but doesn’t hurt, and takes a few seconds to do. Fudge never
minds it being done. Sid just sits and takes it like he takes life in
general. But Pogo and Treacle hate it and run in terror. With flea treatments done the postman
delivered my new Sky sim card. I tried to swap it over into my mobile and met
with utter failure. After getting incredibly cross with it I gave up and
tried phoning the phone’s help desk. Sky’s help desk was endless recorded
messages which eventually told me they’d send me a text, and they hung up. I think I’ll try the phone unlocking stall in
the town centre tomorrow… As I drove to work the comedy show "Count
Arthur Strong" was on the radio. There has been a lot of talk about
this show on the Radio 4 Facebook pages. It is obviously something of a
"marmite" show in that people either love it or hate it. I
was hoping for good things from the show… Let's just say that I knew it was a comedy
because at random intervals canned laughter was played so that the audience
realised that they had missed a joke. The show played for half an hour and I
didn't crack a smile once. At the risk of appearing uncharitable, it was crap
with a capital turd. I had planned to get sweeties for work seeing
how I (probably) won't be at Pembury again before Christmas but having
spent far too long fighting with trying to unlock my phone earlier meant I
had no time. I'll get sweeties in the New Year... And other than the
Advent Calendar, everything of note in my day was done with by mid day… |
|
12 December 2020 (Saturday)
- Pissed Off (!)
Fudge spent the night sleeping on top of me. That
rarely happens these days – sometimes he has his soppy moments. Perhaps it
was having him close? I slept well. Over some toast I peered into the Internet.
There was quite a row kicking off on the Radio Four Facebook page about that
show I listened to yesterday. “Count Arthur Strong” is the Woody Allen
of the radio. There are those that find the show hilarious and those who
don’t find it remotely amusing. It is a shame that the two sides can’t
disagree politely. And disagreeing politely would be a good
thing on the global scale. With Brexit talks about to finally go belly-up, four
warships have been dispatched to guard the nations fishing grounds.
Regular readers of this drivel may recall that I predicted that following
Brexit the UK would be involved in another European war within my lifetime. I
so hope I am wrong. We got the dogs organised and set off to
Knowle Park. We missed out on our usual day of hunting geocaches in favour of
joining in with a Munzee event that was planned for
today. They don’t happen very often so we thought we’d give it a go. In
retrospect I wish we hadn’t… Whilst the event was well organised and was fun,
it didn’t go at all well for us. Getting there was a problem. Imagine that you
are on a clock face and want to go from the “eleven” position to the “twelve”
position. You would *not* go via “six”, would you? That’s
pretty much how our sat-nav took us. We eventually got to Knowle Park only to be
turned away by some officious twat who declared that since we hadn’t
pre-booked our spot in the car park he couldn’t let us in. So we went into Sevenoaks to find a public
car park, and got a little lost on the epic trek into Knowle Park. As we walked through Knowle Park we saw
plenty of spaces in the car park which did little for my mood. Because of the deer the dogs couldn’t be
allowed off of the leads and so they pulled (like trains) for the
entire time. The place was heaving with normal people. And it was cold and my nose was running the
entire time. As we walked we met the organiser; I’d
messaged with her a few times. I felt a little sorry for her – she’d put in
such a lot of effort into setting up the day and I had a proper sulk-on over
so many things that were utterly out of her control. I took a few photos
of our walk. It was a good outing really… I suppose. As we walked back to the car my phone beeped.
Yesterday I whinged about a chap who had boiled my piss. He’d messaged me
with an apology. I must admit I was impressed by that. We came home, had a spot of lunch and went up
to town. Yesterday I’d completely failed to unlock my phone from its network.
I thought the nice man in the shop might be able to do it for me. He said to
leave the phone with him so we did… We went for a little walk. As we walked we
met Bernie and had a chat; it was good to catch up. I saw several new shops,
and quite a few closed ones. And after an hour we went back to the phone shop
where the nice man had completely failed to unlock my phone but he said that
he could do something-or-other and send me a code to unlock it. Like a fool I
agreed to that. The whole point of going to the shop was to
have someone do it for me, *not* to have to enter the code myself.
Been there – done that doesn’t work And when I came home I found that neither my
lap-top nor "er indoors TM"’s can see my phone
any more. I rang the nice man in the shop who was adamant that noting he had
done could have in any way caused what has happened. After a couple of hours of getting
progressively more and more angry with the thing I eventually found a
temporary fix on-line. Every time I want to unload photos from it I now have
to dive deep into the settings to remind it to allow lap-tops to access it.
It isn’t a perfect fix, but it makes the phone more useable than it was. I’ve had enough of today… but I suppose it
could always be worse. |
|
13 December 2020
(Sunday) - Early Shift
Fudge spent another
night on the bed. It amazes me how he can be so still and inoffensive all
night long whilst Pogo and Treacle have to stomp about like things possessed. The original plan
didn't have me working today. But a colleague needed to swap her shifts, and
a frankly dreadful weather forecast meant I was only too happy to help out. It was rather cold as
I walked to find my car, and there was quite a bit of ice to scrape from my
windscreen. With the external ice scraped I was rather concerned to find that
the inside of the car's windscreen wasn't clearing. After a rather
panic-stricken few minutes (plagued by visions of garage bills) I
realised the blowers were set to blowing the warm air at me rather than up
the inside of the windscreen. (Dur!) I twiddled the knob, and all was
fine (as is so often the case). As I drove out of
Ashford I was amazed at how many buses were driving about - all of which with
seats for up to fifty people, and all of which were empty. That's not "only
a few passengers", that's "empty - no passengers at all".
I suppose that there's not that many people needing buses before seven o'clock
on a Sunday morning. Back in the day there used to be much smaller buses -
surely it would make sense to run those when hardly any passengers are about? I got to the motorway
and found it closed. That was useful... One of the many benefits of Brexit (!)
is that the motorway is being closed on a regular basis. So I drove up the
A20 instead; I drove up it far faster today than I did when snow closed the
motorway a couple of weeks ago. As I drove the pundits on the radio were
talking about how president-elect Joe Biden has ordered the White House to be
thoroughly
scrubbed out before he takes up residence. He's not keen to go in there until
it's been deep-cleaned bearing in mind just how COVID-19-ridden President
Trump's cronies seem to be, and I think he might have a point. There was also a lot
of talk about some chap and some young lady who found religion over
lock-down. One has converted to Islam, one has become a Buddhist. Both seemed
happy with their decisions... most religious people seem to be. I pretended
that I was happy some forty years ago (until I saw the darkness). The
young lady being interviewed said that she'd always been jealous of religious
people as they had some certainty in their life that she seemed to be
lacking. Looking back I never had religious certainly - I just desperately
hoped that my version of crackpot religion was correct as it promised me the
creator of the universe as a best friend, and (let's be honest here)
that's certainly appealing. I got to work (with
about two minutes to spare) where I did my thing. As I worked I kept
glancing out of the window at a rather damp and dismal day. I was right to
have gone to work today, even if it was a tad busier than I might have liked
it to have been. Having left home in
darkness and got to work in twilight I left work in twilight and came home in
darkness. Just as I was coming home the pundits on the radio were talking
about a recently published book. “The
Arrest” by Jonathan Lethem
sounds just like the sort of post-apocalyptic fiction that I love… but over
seven quid for an e-book? Really? I got home to find
visitors. "My Boy TM" and Cheryl had called
round. We bandied insults for a while, then they went dinner-wards. I
opened the
Advent Calendar, took a photo with my phone, and managed to get the photo
onto my lap-top far quicker than I did yesterday. My phone is far from
perfect right now, but I can get stuff out of it which is a vast improvement
on what it was, even if I do have to go into the developer options every time
to tell it what to do with its USB. |
14 December 2020 (Monday) - Before the Night Shift
Fudge
didn’t sleep on the bed last night – he was sulking. Last night he went out for
a tiddle just before bed time and came back in carrying half a turkey carcass
and looking incredibly pleased with himself. Where did that come from? He
wasn’t at all impressed when I took it from him. He was still rather off with
me as I scoffed toast this morning, turning his nose up at the crusts. As I peered
into the Internet this morning I saw I had another friend request on
Facebook. I wonder who this person is. She has no friends in common with me,
claims to live in Copenhagen, and on occasion would seem to run round in the
nip. Unlike many of the friend requests I seem to get on Facebook she isn’t
actively peddling filth, but yet again I have a friend request on Facebook
from someone I don’t know, with whom I have nothing in common, and not only is
a nudey lady, but also has no clothes on either.
This time I decided against reporting her to the Facebook Feds as it is me
who gets in trouble for doing so. To be fair to Diana there are far more
photos on her Facebook page of her with clothes than without, but if I don’t
take a moral stand, who will. I also saw
an advert on Facebook for “playful lingerie” featuring several young
ladies wearing little more than saucy smiles. You really do have to wonder at
just how these Facebook anti-smut algorithms work, don’t you? A friend of
mine was grumbling on Facebook about the ridiculous COVID-19 restrictions.
There is a publican who lives near him who has done a lot to support local
musicians. This chap wanted to hold a pre-Christmas ticketed COVID-19-safe live
music event. But the local council has said because his primary licence is to
serve alcohol and his music licence is secondary, he has to operate as a pub.
That means no tickets, people have to buy food to be able to buy anything
alcoholic, only one drink per course and people have to leave as soon as they
have finished scoffing. Definitely no nursing a single pint through the
evening. But *if* he had been running a licenced music venue
with a secondary licence to serve alcohol, he could have put on a ticketed
music event where people could have bought as much booze as they wanted and
without any food at all. Where’s the
sense in that? I got some
excited dogs onto their leads and took them out. Regular readers of this
drivel may recall I had a little recce at Hothfield Common last week. It
looked good for a walk, so I took the hounds up there today. As we walked we
met other dogs and said hello nicely. We had a short walk; we will have
longer ones as we explore and figure out where to go. In the meantime I will
follow the signposts. I then went
up into town to see if the nice people in the mobile phone shop might be able
to help with the unlocking of my mobile phone. As I walked round the town I
was amazed at the amount of people walking around with either no masks, or
masks under their noses. Keeping your mask over your nose is easy – just bend
the wire and it stays put. And for those who aren’t wearing face masks –
whether they like it or not, it’s the law. Some claim medical exemptions… if
they have a respiratory condition preventing them wearing a face covering
should they really be out of their house during a global pandemic? I got to
the mobile phone shop. I walked in… that is I got one foot inside the shop
when the nice man in the shop screamed and came running over. What did I
want? Did I have an appointment? I explained that I was having trouble
unlocking my phone… he didn’t actually say to “f… off” but he clearly
didn’t want anything to do with having me in the shop. I came home
and phoned the network provider like the nice man in the shop said. It is all
very well having an unlock code, but precisely where do you stick it? After a
*lot* of farting about I finally got to the stage of having an
unlocked phone. I put in the new Sky card and went through the instructions…
the Sky website said my phone was registered but it wasn’t working. It did
say to give it time, but I’m not a very patient person. In my line of work,
everything is very “immediate” and over forty years of dealing with
real-life “red alerts” I’ve become a very “immediate” person. As I
photographed today’s instalment of the Advent adventure so I got a
text. The phone circuit of my phone was up and running on the Sky network,
albeit with the wrong number. Sky had sent me an email saying the transfer of
the phone number would happen tomorrow, so I shall have to wait patiently. I went to
bed where I slept patiently for a few hours and woke to find my phone’s
mobile data still wasn’t working. After another *lot* of farting about
I eventually phone a phone number for Sky which was answered by a human. To
be fair to him the chap was incredibly helpful, and after not *quite*
so much farting about we established that I didn’t have any APN settings. I
didn’t even know there were such wonders as APN setting, let alone that I was
lacking them. Matters
were further complicated by finding that inside our house isn’t a
particularly good reception area for Sky mobile data, but that is why God
made home wi-fi. It is
widely claimed that changing mobile phone provider is dead simple – I have
found it to be rather stressful… I hope the change of broadband goes easier
next week. I’m off to
the night shift now. |
|
15 December 2020
(Tuesday) - After the Night Shift
Last night was rather busy, but I’m not
complaining at all. I quite like the night shifts. After all the nastiness of
nine years ago it is good to be trusted to be left alone to do the job for a
substantial period of time, but it is always with a sense of relief when the
relief arrives. It was also with a sense of relief that I saw
the “Operation Brock” stupidity has stopped for now and that the
motorway was open. As I drove home the pundits on the radio were
interviewing some minister or other from the Treasury about the ongoing
COVID-19 pandemic. With confirmed cases going through the roof, concern was
expressed about the proposed relaxation of rules for Christmas. It spoke
volumes about who is calling the shots when a financial minister is
interviewed rather than a health minister, but either way, what can the
government do… Well… They *could* actually enforce a proper
lockdown, but politically they dare not. The dead have no votes, and the
electorate would remember (at the ballot box) being given what they
need rather than what they want. Lacking the political will to enforce proper
safety precautions the government have decided to allow that which they
realistically have no will to prevent. There was also talk about the Olympic Games.
Postponed from last summer, the games are looking set to take place this
coming summer, but there are calls to abandon them because there won’t be
quite so many people watching them in the stadia. How does that work? Are the Olympic Games a sporting contest or a
form of live entertainment? Once home I went to bed for the morning with
something of a sense of frustration. I hadn’t had any messages from Sky about
my phone number having been transferred. I’d been told that it would happen
at some time today, and when I went to bed, today was nine hours old. I’d
been awake for all of them. But (to be fair to them) realistically I
was going to bed just as the Sky offices were opening, but I was still impatient. I was still impatient when I woke three hours
later. I had some brekkie for lunch (as you do)
and then took the dogs out for a walk. We went to Hothfield Common again, and
today we followed the green signs round the “Bogs and Giants” walk. A
good walk, but a tad muddy in parts. Someone had built boardwalks over the
boggier sections; it was a shame that Treacle had to jump off of the
boardwalk into the swamp. And even more of a shame that Fudge and Pogo had to
follow her. As we walked so my phone beeped with five
messages. My old phone number had been changed over onto the new network.
Getting my phone from one network onto another has been (possibly) one
of the most stressful things I’ve ever done, and now that it is sorted I
don’t intend to change it again any time soon. But I am now getting twice as
much out of the phone for half the price. We came home; “boot dogs” then became
“bath dogs”, and once scrubbed the dogs were soon snoring. I told the
world about my Advent
Calendar, set the dishwasher and the washing machine going, and spent a
couple of hours writing up CPD
with Pogo snuggled up next to me. For all that he is seen to be a very
boisterous noisy lump, he is secretly the most soppy and loving of all of the
dogs. A week has passed sine
I last had any contact with the power company. I’ve sent them a complaint – I
doubt that will get the broken gas meter fixed, but I live in hope… I wonder what’s for dinner… |
|
16 December 2020
(Wednesday) - Cleaning The Car Out
I slept like a log. Being post-night shift
and a bottle of red wine do that for me. Pausing only briefly to chivvy Sid
round the garden I made myself some toast then had my morning peer into the
Internet. (Regular readers of this drivel will know that I am a creature
of habit). There wasn’t much happening on Facebook at
all today. I sent out a couple of birthday wishes and scrolled through the
adverts looking for anything of note. Mind you the adverts were quite
interesting. I believe that social media somehow tailors its advertising to
its specific readers. I seem to get a *lot* of adverts for women’s
underwear. Whilst I’m not averse to seeing pictures on saucy ladies wearing
little more than a smile, I’m not going to pay over a hundred quid for a bra
(I clicked the link – seriously – a hundred quid for a bra!!!).
Bearing in mind how quick Facebook are to have me up for breaches of their
community standards I have to wonder how the undercrackers merchants get away
with it? I checked my emails. I had an email (timed
shortly after midnight) telling me that "My Boy TM"’s
Christmas pressie had been delivered. It had actually been delivered about
fourteen hours previously. I did a quick You-Gov survey, and then took the
dogs out for a walk. The nice man was coming to service the boiler this
morning and the last thing he needed would have been a sea of dogs getting in
the way. We went down to Orlestone.
Just lately we’ve walked round Hothfield Common, but the place isn’t that
big. I had a look-see on-line last night. The “Bogs & Giants” walk
we did yesterday at Hothfield was billed as one of the longer trails, and it
was only a mile or so. Down at Orlestone our
standard walk is twice that, and we miss out a *lot* of the woods. And
Hothfield Common does seem to be swarming with the normal people. There are
far fewer people at Orlestone, but it is muddier. We had a good walk round Orlestone
woods, even if the dogs did get filthy (and roll in fox poo). It was a
shame that I twisted my knee, but there it is. As we walked we saw only one
other group, and they were two hundred yards in the distance and walking away
from us. Going to Orlestone
also meant I could test my phone. The old network struggled to get coverage
there. The new one isn’t perfect but was far better. I managed to post the
obligatory dog photo in seconds rather than in minutes, and I could send
instant messages to "er indoors TM" where
previously the thing has struggled. We came home to find the boiler all serviced,
and once I’d got the dogs bathed I settled down with a cuppa. Then the dogs
went mad – postie had arrived. Every year at the Christmas geo-meet those of
us who’ve found squillions of geocaches get certificates of achievement. I
got one through the post today… It made me realise just how much I miss the
geo-meets. Over the last year geo-meets have stopped because of coronageddon, and the geocaching Facebook pages have filled
with the keyboard warriors who would run a mile rather than say hello to
anyone in person. The sooner we can all meet up again the better. I told the world about my Advent Calendar,
and seeing how the time was flying I got changed and set off. I drove round to B&Q. The back seat of my
car has become something of a disaster zone so I had this plan to get a
plastic box into which to put the wellington boots and coats and extending
dog leads and shopping bags and all the general clutter. As I walked in to
B&Q I was rather dismayed to see that they had the very boxes I wanted at
about twenty quid each. I wasn't going to shell out twenty quid for a plastic
box. I walked into the shop and round to the plastic box department where
they had pretty much the same boxes (but without lids) for three quid.
It pays to shop around. I got one of those and set off to work. As I drove the pundits on the radio were
talking about how at the last election the Labour party were held up to
ridicule because of their spending promises, and that there was no such thing
as a "magic money tree". What with the pandemic, the Labour
party's promises were but a drop in the ocean compared to what the government
has now actually spent. An attempt was made to explain where all the borrowed
money came from. Keeping businesses afloat, furlough payments - it runs to
billions of pounds. But from what was being said all the money really would
seem to have come from a "magic money tree". Whilst there
was talk of paying back all the borrowing, there was no mention at all made
of to who, what or where this money needs to be
paid. I got the impression the so-called debt could
be magic-ed away in much the same way that the money had been magic-ed into
existence in the first place. I got to the works car park, and with a few
minutes spare I brushed and scrubbed my car out. It is far from pristine, but
looks a whole lot better than it was. So much so that non-canine passengers
might now consent to get into the thing. (We had a near-refusal a couple
of weeks ago...!) As I worked my phone rang. According to
whoever is on the other end of 020 8044 3842 a warrant has been issued for my
arrest due to some tax evasion scam of which I am a part. I told them to get
knackered. If there is no update tomorrow, you'll know
I'll be in the chokey... |
|
17 December 2020
(Thursday) - Bit Dull
I was sleeping like a log when my phone
beeped with a message to tell me that my new broadband router would be
delivered sometime in the following fourteen hours. That was rather imprecise,
wasn’t it? Some teacher friends of mine were whinging
on-line about how hard being a teacher is. Their Christmas holiday started a
few days ago, and their work doesn’t resume until the new year. This year I
have one of the longest Christmas breaks I have ever had – three days. And a
family member was posting photos of his garden – he can get fourteen cars
parked in the drive outside his house in the countryside. He pays for that by
writing articles for magazines that no one reads. Yet again I find myself questioning my career
choices. With "er indoors TM"
having a day off we both took the dogs down to Orlestone
for a rather muddy walk. Fudge straggled, all the dogs spuddled
in stagnant ponds… Their behaviour is far worse when "er indoors TM"
is along for the walk. But with "er indoors TM"
having the day off she got to bath the dogs. Result ! We then had a cuppa and
as we did so "er indoors TM"’s phone beeped. Her
Amazon delivery had arrived and been “handed to the resident”. Really?
We found it laying outside the front door. Home delivery is all very well
when you can be sure of getting that which you are ordering. I told the world about today’s
Advent adventure and set off to Matalan. My works trousers are getting a
tad threadbare. Unfortunately they didn't have any in my size. Few clothing
shops cater for the more rotund gentleman, and fewer still cater for the
fat-arsed. I shall have a look on-line. I drove to work. As I drove the pundits on
the radio were talking about how pandemics never stopped Shakespeare. They
were talking in such a way that they rather expected their audience to know
all about his works. I must admit I don't. I read Julius Caesar for O-level
English literature, and our English teacher did his utmost to kill the play
stone-dead. Looking back he did the same with several other books that turned
out to be actually rather good (Lord of the Flies, All Quiet on the
Western Front, Fahrenheit 451, 2001 - A Space Odyssey to name but four).
Perhaps I should give Shakespeare another chance. I got to work and did my bit... whilst
hobbling about. I twisted my knee yesterday and I think that I didn't do it
any favours by going out in the mud on it today. As I hobbled "er
indoors TM" sent a message to say that the router arrived
some time in the mid-afternoon. And that she’d poggered her car window. That’s useful… |
|
18 December 2020
(Friday) - Rostered Day Off
With no reason to be up early I was wide
awake about three hours earlier than I had intended. I gave up trying to
sleep as my CPAP machine was making enough noise to wake the dead, and came
downstairs. I was rather pleased to se no turds,
and chivvied Sid outside where he crapped, then trod in it. Over brekkie I watched an episode of “Big
Mouth” then peered into the Internet. Last night I made a video of our
adventure in the woods yesterday and had posted
it on Facebook – several people had clicked the “like” button. Recently my Facebook feed has been filled
with adverts for ladies underwear, but today I was bombarded with adverts for
beer. One of these adverts amazed me. Most of the beers for sale were about
the same price except one. Ironically the one that was out on its own was the
closest one to me. A new start-up
in Folkestone was charging fourteen quid for three tins where everyone
else had a going rate of twelve quid for eight bottles. A couple of people had
commented on how expensive the Folkestone brewery was, and whoever it is that
runs this new start-up had posted a little rant about supporting local
businesses and paying their suppliers a fair price. Someone else can support
this local business and pay their suppliers vastly over the odds. I don’t
think I will be doing so. I got dressed, woke the dogs, and took them
down to Orlestone a lot earlier than usual.
Checking the Internet I saw that we arrived a minute after sunrise. Without "er
indoors TM" the dogs messed about far less. There was no
jumping in the swamps. We did meet one other person – his dog was something
of a “precious princess” but it all passed off without incident. As I walked I was giving some thought to why
we keep going back to Orlestone. What do I want
from a dog-walk location? Principally somewhere that I can manage three dogs
with minimum fuss. Somewhere that the dogs can jump from the car boot, run (about)
two miles with not having to worry about crossing lanes and tracks and stiles
and gates. Somewhere with no hills or farm animals or pheasants. Somewhere
with a bare minimum of normal people. Orlestone
ticks all the boxes. We came home, had a bath and I popped up to
town. On Saturday I paid one of the shops in the town to unlock my mobile
phone. They told me they would be in touch by text within two days . Having
heard nothing from them I eventually got the thing unlocked myself, and I
went back to the shop today to see if I could get a refund. The chap behind
the counter openly admitted he’d forgotten all about it, but flatly refused
to give a refund. I wasn’t expecting one and (in all honesty) I’d
written that money off anyway. But I’ve put in a complaint to the Trading
Standards people just in case. I came home via Asda. The place was heaving
with young mothers all shrieking into their phones whilst their children ran
riot. But it was the old bat in front of me in the queue that boiled my piss.
Whenever she had anything to say (and she had a *lot* to say) she took
off her face covering. Once home again I made a cuppa and we scoffed
the Belgian buns I’d got in Asda. It has to be said that I am quite the
connoisseur of Belgian buns and (sadly) Asda’s aren’t the best. But it
was better than nothing. As I scoffed I got on to Matalan’s website and
ordered up the trousers that their shop didn’t have yesterday. I also made a
start on getting my ENT appointment re-scheduled, We then went out for a third time to collect "er
indoors TM"’s car – she’d found someone to un-pogger the window, then I put “Trailer Park Boys”
on Netflx and spent a couple of hours doing the
ironing before falling asleep in front of the telly. "er indoors TM" got fish and
chips which we scoffed whilst watching the latest episode of “Star Trek:
Discovery”. Now into its third season, the show seems to be either very
good, or terrible. Tonight’s was rather good – if only for the blatant
harking back to Captain Kirk… A day off – it has been non-stop. |
|
19 December 2020
(Saturday) - Tier 4
I slept like a log right until "er
indoors TM"’s alarm went off. And then went off again. I
got up and was nearly run over by Fudge sprinting to the back door. Seeing a
turd-free floor I chivvied Sid out as well. Fudge was only too keen to get
outside, Sid was rather indignant about being turfed
out into the rain. He’s a funny dog. He will only ever pee in one particular
spot, but that spot is a couple of yards onto the lawn, and he *really*
hates getting his paws wet. For all that turds pop out with frustrating
regularity, he can hold amazing amounts of pee. Some time passed before he
realised he wasn’t going to be allowed back in until he’s done something. He
daintily picked his way across a very wet lawn and then peed what seemed to
be a couple of gallons before glaring at me and stomping angrily to the back
door where Fudge was waiting to go inside. I made toast, and peered into the Internet.
Several friends were complaining about the Leader of the House of Commons Jacob
Rees-Mogg. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not
defending him in the slightest. From what I’ve seen and heard of him in the
news he appears to be an odious little pipsqueak. But what gets me is that
for all that Rees-Mogg certainly appears to be
undoubtedly a vile and loathsome person with no redeeming features, he has
won a legitimate election to be in Parliament, and he got more votes than all
the other candidates put together. Are the opposition parties in such disarray
that they really can’t offer up anyone better? There was mild consternation on the local
geocaching Facebook page this morning (the one of which I am still a
member). I’d posted a photo of the certificate I’d received earlier in
the week and another friend had posted a piccie of
hers. These certificates are things given out to people who have attended the
Kent Christmas geo-meet and celebrate how much Tupperware we’ve located. Very
much a by-us-and-for-us thing, this year they got posted out to those
who would have been at the meet had we been allowed to have one. Someone (living
on the north Norfolk coast) was whinging that he’d not got a certificate.
Facebook groups are not only no substitute for monthly get-togethers, but
they also encourage the keyboard warriors who would run a mile rather than
say hello to anyone in person. There were also quite a few posts from people
who’ve now packed up for Christmas, and are looking forward to (at least)
a two-week break. I’ve still got five more working days before my Christmas
break starts (at quarter to four in the afternoon of Christmas Day).
But I’m not complaining in the slightest. One of my “memories” that
came up on Facebook this morning was of the Christmas jumper day at work from
three years ago. Having spent so many years in what was a very toxic
environment, it is so good to work somewhere where I don’t lay awake at night
feeling physically sick at the prospect of going to work. An hour and a half after her alarm had woken
me, "er indoors TM" emerged from her pit. I
shoved a swab up my nose and did my COVID-19 test (negative), cleared
the turds from the garden, and settled the dogs, then we went on a little
delivering Christmas pressies journey to Hastings. Bearing in mind that they
too are now Tier 3, that was allowed by the rules. And talking of the rules.. We got home to a
message from Karl, and we immediately turned on the telly. The Prime Minister
was telling the nation that where we live is now subject to Tier 4
restrictions. Which means we can socialise with only one other person that we
don’t live with… It does seem odd that those who are still working can come
into contact with dozens of people in their workplaces, but only one person
outside the workplace. But these are the rules… I shall follow them but I
suspect I will be in the minority. Personally I can’t help but feel that the
Prime Minister would command more respect if he didn’t look like he had just
been dragged through a hedge backwards. This isn’t a problem in Lego Advent
World… |
|
20 December 2020
(Sunday) - Pluckley
Finding myself wide awake at three o’clock I
got up and watched the episodes of “Four In A Bed”
that I had recorded yesterday evening. Have you ever watched it? It’s quite
fun. The owners of four bed-and-breakfasts spend a night in each other’s
establishments and find fault with them. It can all get rather bitchy. But
what makes me laugh is when the cameras record mould and filth in the
bedrooms, and the owners of that bedroom flatly deny it. After three episodes I finally felt tired and
went back to bed. At seven o’clock I had a text from Royal Mail
telling me that they had been unable to deliver the parcel that they
delivered on Friday. I nodded off again, and at eight o’clock I had a text
from Sky saying that the new broadband would be going live some time on
Tuesday. Oh, how I laughed. I made some toast and half of it got wedged
in the toaster, so there was a minor delay whilst I took the toaster into the
garden to salvage what I could. As I scoffed cold toast I peered into the
Internet. I was expecting a lot more whinging about yesterday’s announcement
that we were all in Tier 4; there was surprisingly little. I suppose all the
whinging has been done already, and there is little left to say. Having been put into Tier 4 our plans for
today had gone west. But the dogs needed an outing so geo-maintenance was the
order of the day. We drove down to Rolvenden and
waded through a swamp to replace a small cache, and then to pull Fudge and
Pogo out of a rabbit hole. From there we drove out to Pluckley where we
walked half a mile across a field and back to replace another cache. All
three dogs got filthy and we lost Fudge for five minutes. I
took a few photos as we walked, and as we drove home it became apparent
where Fudge had been. He’d found fox poo to roll in; the stench was
unmistakable. With the dogs scrubbed "er indoors TM"
went off shopping. Since the Tier 4 rules say that only one member of each
household needs to go shopping I stayed in and watched the telly for a bit as
the dogs slept. I told the world about today’s instalment of the Advent
Calendar, and "er indoors TM" came home and
boiled up a rather good bit of scran which we devoured whilst watching one of
the many “Bake-Off” compilations and washed it down with a bottle of
Liebfraumilch (old skool!) We’re currently tuned in to the Ener-guys
Christmas Zoom meet… it’s not the same as insulting people face-to-face… |
|
21 December 2020
(Monday) - Not Doing Chrstmas Cards
I went to the loo in the small hours and as I
walked a furry bullet flew past me. Fudge was desperate to get out. Whether
he needed a pee or needed to play silly beggars was a matter of conjecture -
he does like running round the garden in the dark. He didn't run round it for
long - it was pouring hard at three o'clock this morning. Sid wanted to go
out as well - I saw that as a minor victory. I made toast, and whilst everyone else snored
I watched an episode of "Big Mouth" before having a look at
the Internet. Facebook was heaving with posts supporting Boris Johnson this
morning. The general thrust of people's arguments was that he was doing the
best he could in a poor situation. I must admit I disagree with that. If you
keep up with the news it is apparent that Boris Johnson is not a man of
action. He is a man of inaction. Rather than leading decisively and talking
decisions that could have a positive effect, he tends to let matters slide.
Opportunities are missed and in the end avoidable events dictate poor outcomes.
But because most people *don't* keep up with the news, most people
miss this and don't realise that Boris Johnson is generally in a mess of his
own making. The current Brexit debacle and the hated Tier 4 restrictions are
both examples of that. As I drove to work (through the rain)
the pundits on the radio were talking about Brexit and Tier 4 restrictions
and how the Port of Dover is closed. As I drove west-ward along the M20 there
was not a single vehicle heading east-wards as the motorway was closed
east-bound. The French have banned all travel from the UK (for totally
avoidable reasons) and who can blame them? I drove to Sainsburys. Rather than giving out
Christmas cards to colleagues I'd decided to give them sweeties, flapjacks
and cookies for the simple reason that given the choice of either a Christmas
card or sweeties, flapjacks and cookies, I know what I'd rather have. Sainsbury's was heaving at 7.30am this
morning. What with many people's Christmas plans having gone tits up (thank
you Prime Minister) a lot of people were panic-buying the ingredients for
the Christmas dinners which they had hoped someone else would be cooking for
them. Me - I was panic-buying toilet roll. I was rather amazed to see shelves
full of the stuff and so I thought I'd get some before everyone else had the
idea of panic-buying. The fact that we needed some was neither here
nor there. I got to work, bit my
bit, and came home down the A20. I had been expecting the journey from hell
coming home (what with the motorway being closed) but I was only
twenty minutes late getting home. "er indoors TM" boiled up pie
and chips which we scoffed whilst watching the first episode of “Moonbase 8”.
I won’t say it was crap, but we won’t be bothering with the second episode. I told the world about today’s instalment of the Advent
adventure, then called up the website of the goat sanctuary. What with one
thing and another we’ve not got ourselves organised enough to give out
Christmas cards this year, and so rather than giving out cards, I’ve made a
donation to the goats. And in closing today this is (probably)
the last blog entry to be posted through the current Internet connection. If
there is no update tomorrow you’ll know that the great broadband swap-over
went horribly wrong… |
|
22 December 2020 (Tuesday)
- New Broadband
"er indoors TM" and the dogs slept
very well last night - I don't know who was snoring the loudest, but I
clouted all of them several times during the night. I got up and wasted five minutes chasing Sid
round the back yard before making brekkie. As I settled down to scoff it I
tuned in to Netflix only to get a "Quack-Quack-Oops"
message. Overnight the old broadband provider had clearly thrown in the
sponge. I scoffed toast and set off for work. As I drove the pundits on the radio were
dribbling on about the traffic chaos on the M20 and were talking about how
the east-bound carriageway was now open. Don't believe what you hear - it
wasn't open. There was also talk about traffic chaos in
France featuring a frankly embarrassing interview with the manager of the
port of Calais who spoke several disjointed and contradictory phrases before
announcing that he had another phone call waiting, and hanging up. I've said
before that the presenter of Radio Four should avoid live interviews unless
they are sure that the person to who they are speaking won't be a total waste
of air-time. There was a lot of speculation about the new
strain of the COVID virus in which the presenter tried (and failed) to
simplify PhD level virology into layman's terms. Like yesterday I'd left home expecting
motorway madness, and again I got to work far faster than I had expected. I
went for a little walk (scattering Munzees as I
went) before getting on with the day's round Just as I started so "er indoors TM"
sent a text. She wasn't happy that the internet connection wasn't working.
Being twenty-five miles away I felt brave enough to remind her that I'd told
her about this several times over the last few weeks. At half past nine she texted to say the new
broadband was working. At half past ten she texted to say it wasn't. At quarter to eleven she texted to say the
new broadband was working again, and that the police had called asking if we
had heard anything on Saturday evening. Just as I came back from lunch I had a
message from the old broadband provider to say that they'd jacked it all in. An hour later I had a text from Sky to say
the new broadband was up and running and that they would be testing it in ten
days’ time (!) Bearing in mind the chaos on the motorway I
checked Google Map's traffic information before leaving work this evening. It
told me the quickest way home would be via the M20 which bypassed the heavy
traffic on the M20 (?) I came home down the M20’s “Operation
Brock” contraflow past several miles of queuing lorries. There were speed
limits, but I got home much quicker than yesterday. Once home it was a matter of seconds to get
my phone and lap-top up and running on the new broadband connection and I
told the world about today’s Advent
instalment, Compared to the hard work that was sorting out the transfer
of my mobile phone, the broadband seems to have gone painlessly. I wonder if it will still be working
tomorrow…? |
|
23 December 2020 (Wednesday)
- Dog Turds
Finally managing to have a decent night’s
sleep I got up and as I walked to the stairs I felt that unmistakable squelch
of a humungous dog turd under my foot. As I hopped to get some bleach and a
bucket of water from the bathroom I found another epic pile of turd at the
foot of the stairs. I have no way of knowing for sure which dog was the
culprit, but I doubt whether Sid, Fudge or Treacle could ever create such
massive dumps. With carpet cleaned and slippers in the bin (they
were turded beyond redemption) I made some
toast and watched the last episode of the current season of “Big Mouth”
on Netflix. Netflix was working this morning. Not that I thought it wouldn’t
be, but yesterday evening there was a minor hiccup in that the SkyPlus box had lost its internet connection and we
seemingly had no way to restore it. Personally I was happy to let it go as
we’ve got a Sky-Q box coming in a couple of weeks’ time but "er
indoors TM" was having none of it, and got stuck in. I’d
left her fighting with the thing when I went to bed last night. Seeing I had a working internet connection I
used it to see what was happening on Facebook. There was quite a lot of blame
being assigned on the local Facebook groups. Be it Brexit, the ongoing
pandemic, the weather, or the cat’s guts-ache, everyone was blaming everyone
else for the ills of the world. Pausing only briefly to magnetise the tree
house and the Skyland (it’s a Munzee thing)
I had another search for errant dog turds, set the dishwasher going and got
myself ready for work, glaring at a sleeping Pogo as I dressed. I wandered down the road to find my car,
inadvertently walking straight past it. I'd walked a few hundred yards before
I realised my mistake. It wasn't *that* far to back-track. Fortunately the traffic lights at the end of
the road were working (they had been broken since Saturday) so getting
out of Beaver Road was a lot less stressful than it has been. As I drove there was a lot of talk on the
radio about how mental health services are struggling with the upsurge in
demand that the pandemic has generated. I won't go into details, but mental health
services have been a major part of my life (for reasons that I have
glossed over) during this last year. Sadly in-patient mental health care
in Kent consists of very little more than locking up the patients and
drugging them, and formal complaints getting replies of "what more
can we do?" Hopefully mental health care will be improved as a
result of this pandemic; it could be improved locally by the instant
dismissal of two consultant psychiatrists (who I won't name here)
whose only medical ability seems to be to increase the dosage. This was followed by the "Thought for
the Day" section in which some vicar or other cautioned us against
wishful thinking and putting our hopes into not breaking chain letters and
reading horoscopes. Somehow those were just a load of old tosh, but all the
Nativity stories are real. Go figure. There was also talk about how the French have
opened their borders. Being in the European Union certainly never removed
their control of their borders, did it? But for all that the Port of Dover
was back in business, lorries were still queued ten miles or more up the
coast-bound carriageway of the motorway as I drove to Maidstone. I got to work where I realised that what with
all the excitement of dog turds and having a working internet connection I'd
forgotten to do my COVID test. I booked a vet appointment for Fudge (ongoing
kidney stuff) and got on with that which I couldn't avoid. Despite the lorries having been supposedly
moving across the Channel all day, there were still lorries queued back as
far up the motorway as Maidstone this evening; a twenty-five mile journey
home took over an hour. As I came round the cows roundabout in Ashford there
were loads of lorries going round it to use the A-road, One of them got
rather close to a car. Too close. I watched the car shaking and heard the
noise of the lorry scraping up the side of the car. The car’s driver leapt
out of the car – the lorry kept going. Once finally home I told the world about the penultimate
Advent adventure (of this year) and once the dogs had been fed "er
indoors TM" popped up to the KFC for dinner. We scoffed
it whilst watching “Bake-Off”. My feet are cold… I could do with new
slippers… |
|
24 December 2020
(Thursday) - Christmas Eve ?
Last night one of the dogs curled up on the
bed at my feet. You would think that was rather nice, but that dog then
grumbled and growled every time I moved the slightest amount. Eventually I
tired of the grumbling and got up. Bearing in mind yesterday’s disaster U
used the torch on my phone to check for errant turds rather than walking in
the darkness. I made myself a bowl of granola (I’d
forgotten we had the stuff) then watched Netflix. “Alien Worlds”
is a sort-of documentary about how life might evolve on other planets. I’d
been meaning to watch it for some time. I settled down to find out all about
the fictitious skygrazers on the equally
fictitious plant of Atlas only to find that Fudge had got up and didn’t like skygrazers. I think it was the noise they made, but he
growled at them quite impressively. He only stopped growling when Sid dropped
a turd whilst straining to climb the dog-ladder (we have a ladder to help
the dogs get on to the sofa). At that point Fudge ran upstairs so that he
didn’t get the blame. I had a little rummage round Facebook but it
wasn't long before I saw comments saying that the motorway was still closed.
So not wanting to spend much of the morning stuck in traffic I got myself
ready and set off to work. Sure enough the motorway was still closed. I took the A20 to work. The A20 is a standard
A-road, but I was amazed at the amount of half-wit drivers who treated it as
a motorway in that they expected it to have more than one carriageway in each
direction, and found themselves driving head-on at oncoming traffic (i.e.
me). As I drove the radio was interesting. At this
time of year the morning news program has guest editors. Today's guest editor
was Prue Leith (of "Bake-Off" fame) who had told them that
the news articles had to be factual news - *not* unfounded
speculation. Those presenting made no secret that sticking to known
facts and avoiding unfounded speculation was difficult and seriously cut down
that which they could say. Doubly so this morning with a Brexit deal
being strongly rumoured. I'd not brought lunch; I thought I might get
a sandwich when I got petrol this morning. I eventually got to the
Sainsbury's filling station in Ayleford where they
had three sandwiches left. Three! I asked the woman behind the till if they
were deliberately running the stock down for Christmas; she laughed and said
those were the left-overs. All of their sandwiches for today were on a lorry
stuck in a traffic jam somewhere. I got to work and found myself reflecting on
the first Christmas Eve that I worked as a professional blood tester back in
Hastings. It was very different to how today went. Back then the hospital was
pretty much emptied of patients on the run-up to Christmas. There would only
be a handful of in-patients where usually there were hundreds. (Who wants
to spend Christmas in a hospital?) All of the GP surgeries were closed
for Christmas back then as well. We would have maybe ten percent (at most)
of our usual workload. We would spend the first hour of the day setting up
the analysers as we did every day (and still do), and then we would go
for a tea break... where the beer flowed. We would drink ourselves silly
until mid-day when (leaving management running the show) we would walk
from the old Royal East Sussex Hospital to French's in Robertson Street where
we would carry on drinking. At about three o'clock in the afternoon we would
get a pang of guilt about having left the boss working all on her own and
would all stagger back to work where we would find that she had long since
gone home, and the night shift (which back then was from five o'clock in
the afternoon) had started early. Over the years things rather calmed down as
hospitals became more and more busy. A day on the beer became a long
lunchtime with a couple of pints and going home early. And that became a half
of shandy over lunch... Eventually hospitals stopped winding down for
Christmas... and today was pretty much just the same as any other day at
work. Such a shame... It is also a shame that today was supposed to
have been my last ever Christmas Eve at work as I should have been retiring
in less than nine months’ time... but that is a rant that has been done to
death. I did my bit which today in a very
un-seasonal way featured malaria and leukaemia, and I got a date for my
COVID-19 jab (next week) as well. And the traffic chaos which had made for a
closed motorway this morning was still there and made for a closed motorway
this evening. Thousands of drivers are in for a rather dull Christmas… And here’s the last Advent
adventure... of this year at least…. |
|
25 December 2020
(Friday) - Early Shift (!)
"er indoors TM" had the place lit
up like Piccadilly Circus shortly after midnight and was having quite the
rumpus with the dogs shortly before four o'clock when they suddenly all
formed an alliance and captured all of the duvet from me. I gave up trying to sleep, went downstairs
and scoffed a bowl of granola whilst watching the second episode of "Alien
Worlds". Today's episode looked at things which manage to live in
the most extreme of environments and mentioned "Janus" - a
fictional tidally-locked planet. Expecting the motorway to be closed I left
early for work. It was rather cold this morning, and sure enough the motorway
was closed so I went up the A road. I could see hundreds of lorries queuing
on the motorway, and as I went up the A20 I couldn't help but notice that
pretty much every space on the roadside that was big enough had a parked
lorry on it. I saw several of the drivers sitting in their cabs looking
rather morose, and who could blame them. There has been such chaos caused by
the French closing their border for only two short days. As I drove I listened to the radio. Rather
than the usual morning program, today they were broadcasting an episode of
"Something Understood"; an hour long special which through
great writers, poets and composers the presenter found comfort in the face of
adversity... or so the BBC website said. Personally having listened to it for
about forty minutes I thought it was a load of pretentious old tripe. Surely
the BBC could have come up with something better for Christmas morning? It really is as though the BBC are legally
obliged to put on religious content, but knowing full well that hardly anyone
will listen to it, they put minimum effort into it... or they deliberately
put on a load of old crap as some sort of a joke. I got to work. Looking back through my
diaries I seem to work two out of every three Christmas Days. And it rather
goes with the territory - hospitals don't close. I don't *really* mind
working on Christmas Day, but if I had my time again I would work somewhere
that (if only occasionally) puts up a "closed" sign. Before I started I took a selfie and posted
it to Facebook. I did that once where I used to work and received a written
disciplinary warning for doing so, but now I am in a more enlightened working
environment. I posted the piccie to both my own
page and the works Facebook page, and the “likes” flew in. Work was work; as is always the way,
Christmas Day can be surprisingly busy. I was glad when the relief arrived. I came home along as much of the motorway as
I could, and down the A-road where the motorway was closed. At several points
where the A-road was close to the motorway there were white vans parked and
people unloading supplies for the lorry drivers stranded on the motorway. I got home where we had a socially distanced
Christmas dinner in which I ate and drank far too much… |
|
26 December 2020 (Saturday) - Lazy Boxing Day
A combination of a week of rather long days (what
with the motorway closure), disturbed nights and having eaten and drunk
far too much yesterday had taken their toll. I slept for ten hours last
night. "er indoors TM" is *never* up
before me. Over some toast I peered into the Internet. A
couple of days ago I posted up the last instalment of this year’s Advent
calendar and there were a lot of kind comments about it. Over the years the
thing seems to have developed a life of its own. I do enjoy doing it, but it
can be daunting when I open a window and see a boat or a car of some obscure could-be-anything
and I wonder just how I can make a story out of it. Fortunately the voices in
my head seem to come up trumps for me. Yesterday I mentioned that ‘d posted a selfie
from work. The posting to the official works page had been “liked”
over eighty times (including “likes” from senior managers). The
posting to my personal page had got over a hundred and thirty reactions. Quite a few people were already selling unwanted
Christmas presents through the Facebook selling pages, and those with
political axes to grind were already singing the praises of (or finding
fault with) the Prime Minister’s Brexit deal. Bearing in mind that the
thing was only announced two days ago (and we had Christmas yesterday)
and also bearing in mind the treaty is twice the length of the “Lord of
the Rings” trilogy, has anyone read it in full and understood it? Having seen postings from both sides of the
argument it would seem that the deal is the best that could be expected but
is (by its very nature) a worse deal than the UK had as a member of
the European Union. It bothered me that some people from the “leave”
side were surprised to realise this. We got the dogs onto their new leads and collars
and went for a little walk round the park. For all that we are supposedly in
Tier 4 there were *loads* of people out walking. We met lots of other
dogs, and only had one “episode” and that was when Pogo ran in terror
from a bigger dog. One chap walking past with his dog stopped to fuss our
dogs and made some comment about how good it was to see all these dogs in the
park, as though seeing dogs in the park was some sort of novelty. I formed
the distinct impression that he (like so many other dog owners) only
took his dog out on holidays and high days. As we walked round Singleton Lake so Pogo and
Treacle chased ducks. Treacle came back dripping wet; I think she fell in the
lake. And then we had a moment of sheer panic. Pogo started screaming, and
his back leg was sticking out at a very odd angle. At first glance it looked
to be broken. I sprinted through the swamp to get to him; he was quite happy
to be picked up and didn’t seem bothered when we examined his leg. I carried
him for a little, and then we tried him walking. He hobbled for a bit, but
soon seemed to forget whatever it was that had given him gyp. Had he twisted
his leg chasing a duck? Trodden on a sharp stone? I spent the rest of the
walk watching him “like a pork” (to coin a phrase). We came home for coffee and Christmas cake. I’d
got us a good (expensive) cake from Marks and Spencer as a treat.. it
was something of a disappointment. Usually we would be off visiting or having
visitors on Boxing Day. But Tier 4 restrictions had put a stop to that. So "er
indoors TM" did a Christmas jigsaw whilst I spent the
afternoon laying on the sofa watching “Carry On” films that hadn’t
stood the test of time. Laying on the sofa was probably a good idea - I
wasn’t feeling on top form today. My stomach’s not been right since I scoffed
a bag of peanuts from the shop over the road last Sunday. I watched Carry On until I could stand no more,
then had a little look-see at the monthly accounts. I could be a whole lot
worse off really… "er indoors TM"
boiled up a very good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching a film.
I’d thought that “A Street
Cat Named Bob” was going to be a lot more Christmassy that it was,
but I’m glad we watched it. |
|
27 December 2020
(Sunday) - Floods
I slept for eight hours lat
night – not as much as the night before, but still something of a result. I
woke to the forecast torrential rain which put Sid off of going out to “do
things”. Once my back were turned he “did things” on the lino. Ho hum… With the rain having put the kibosh on pretty
much anything outside today I set the washing machine loose on some shirts,
then thought about brekkie. I made some toast and scoffed it whilst watching
the third episode of “Alien Worlds” in which we visited the fictional
planet of “Eden” which was orbiting a binary star. I then sparked up the lap-top to peer into
the Internet. There wasn’t much going on today compared to some argumentative
days. There were some ungrateful people selling off unwanted Christmas
pressies… but I suppose if you’ve been given something you don’t want why not
try and make something out of it? I sent out birthday wishes and seeing that
the washing machine had stopped I ironed five shirts whilst watching an old
episode of “Hornblower”
– is that show *really* twenty years old? Three hours after I’d first got up "er
indoors TM" surfaced along with the dogs. Whilst they did
their morning farting about I drove round to Matalan as I’d had an email
telling me my trousers were ready to be collected. I arrived to an empty car park and was about
to go home when I saw lights on inside the place. As I walked to the door a
woman came out and shrieked about it being “click and collect only”.
She didn’t actually say “f… off fatso” but that was clearly her
intent. She wasn’t impressed when I gave her my click and collect number, and
she grudgingly went and got my parcel. As she handed it to me so a delivery
driver rolled up. She glared at him and went and got a colleague, and the two
of them told the delivery driver they weren’t accepting deliveries. They were
giving deliveries out (to the likes of me) but not taking them in. I
couldn’t help but wonder where my parcel had come from… but “not my
circus, not my monkeys”. I left them arguing. I came home, gathered a rather epic crop of
dog turds from the back garden and then my phone beeped. The Met Office had
cancelled their Yellow Alert of wind and rain and had issued a Yellow Alert
of snow and ice instead. Seeing no wind, rain, snow or ice at that moment we
thought we might get a quick dog walk in before the weather did turn. We went round the park only to find floods
everywhere – not so much a park as a swamp. But the dogs enjoyed spuddling in the water. We came home, had cake and I fell asleep in
front of the telly whilst “A Shark’s Tale” played. Once I’d woken I
built some of the Lego I’d got for Christmas, then watched a few episodes of
“Four in a Bed” in which the proprietor of the crappiest little
B&B found fault with establishments streets ahead of his own (as
always happens on this show). I think an evening on the beer is in order…
the plan for today was to have friends round for dinner… Once this Tier 4
malarkey is over we will do… |
|
28 December 2020
(Monday) - Another Day Off
Again I slept well – over eight hours in the
land of nod… can’t be bad. I got up and my piss boiled… What is it with
weather forecasts? Why do we take any notice of them? Why don’t Tomasz Schafernaker, Carol Kirkwood, Michael Fish and the like
just be honest and admit that they haven’t got a clue what the weather is
going to do? With overnight snow and ice and constant rain forecast for today
I woke to a glorious morning. I wish I could be as incompetent in my job as weather
forecasters are. “Oh – was it cancer? I thought it was a cold!” and
then we all have a good laugh…. I came downstairs, gathered up Sid’s turds
and then chivvied him outside where he had a tiddle. I suppose turd is easier
to clear up than tiddle. Did I ever mention that I never wanted dogs? I made
toast and scoffed it whilst watching the last of Netflix’s “Alien Worlds”
series in which a fictitious intelligent alien civilisation was moving house
(planet). There was quite a bit of speculation in this episode, but it
made for good viewing whilst I waited for "er indoors TM"
to emerge from her pit. I sparked up my lap-top. I had yet another
friend request from a young lady of (possibly) dubious morals. I
considered telling the Facebook Feds about her but decided against doing so –
it has been well established over the years that it is quite acceptable for
others to try to peddle filth at me on Facebook, but I am not allowed to
mention that they have done so. Seeing a bright morning we took the dogs to
the park. As we walked there was a a minor ruckus
on a doorstep in Christchurch Road. Some chap with a “Deliveroo” bag
was delivering McBreakfast to a house… or was
trying to. A hysterical voice inside the house was repeatedly screeching “who
the f… is it?” Who the f… did she think it was going to be? We got to the park; we had a good walk; but
not the best. Pogo was a tad shouty and Fudge was a tad wilful. But with the
woods being a swamp after the recent heavy rains, the park was probably the
best bet for today. And with walk walked we settled the hounds
and drove down to Hastings to spend a bit of time with Mum on her birthday.
Probably not Tier 4 compliant, but Mum’s not as well as she has been, and (in
all honesty) just how many people *are* following the rules? (I
say “rules” – the so-called COVID rules are vague suggestions at best!) We came home, and we spent the afternoon on
the sofa watching episodes of “Four in a Bed”. I did think about doing
more Lego, but a lazy afternoon was a good plan. "er indoors TM" sorted out
cold meat and pickle (it is the week after Christmas, after all!) and
we scoffed it whilst watching the most recent episode of “Star Trek:
Discovery”. It wasn’t a bad episode… I suppose. It would have been better
had I cared about any of the main characters. The minor characters in the
show are quite likeable, but the lead characters are (for me) like
bread and butter pudding with legs. Such a shame. |
|
29 December 2020
(Tuesday) - Back to Work
I slept well, and for once the alarm woke me.
I came downstairs to find Sid demanding to be let out of the kitchen. To his
disgust he was let out of the kitchen into the garden but having done “that
which was expected of him” I let him into the carpeted areas now that he
was “empty”. I made toast and scoffed it whist watching an
episode of “Motherland”;
yet another series I seem to have missed on its first time around. And with
telly watched I peered into the Internet. Facebook was much the same as ever.
Those (mostly teachers) who’ve often berated me for supposedly having
so much time off work (not seeming to think that night and weekend work
counts for anything) were complaining about how endless the Christmas
holidays seem to be. Those who live fifty miles from any coast were suddenly
experts on the UK fishing industry and were up in arms about the government’s
supposed betrayal of the UK’s fishermen in the Brexit deal. Has the UK got
any professional fishermen any more? Back in the 1970s
the fishmongers of the historic Cinque Port of Hastings were getting their
supplies from Billingsgate as the local fishermen didn’t bring in enough to
supply the town, let alone the nation. It was cold as I went off to find my car, but
not as cold as it might have been. Again the forecast snow and ice had come
to nothing, and I was glad to see the motorway was now open... but probably
nowhere near as glad as the drivers that had been stuck on it over the long
Christmas break. As I drove to work today the pundits on the
radio were pretty much ignoring the burning issues of the day. Today's guest
editor Margaret Atwood (who?) seemed to have an axe to grind about
Canadian history. There was a lot of talk about the persecution of the
Inuit (Eskimo) people, likening the early Canadian settlers' treatment
of the locals to the Holocaust. Was it that bad? I don't know, but even if it
was, what on Earth can be done about it now? I got to work; I did my thing. At lunchtime I
slipped out and joined the queue for the COVID-19 vaccination. I filled in my
questionnaire, had a chat with the doctor, had a chat with the nurse, and had
the injection. As did a *lot* of other people. It is daft - I don't
mind having blood taken. In the past I would let the trainees practice taking
blood from me. I am covered in tattoos (and that *hurts*). But I
really don't like injections. And with injection done I sat and carried on
doing my thing with a throbbing arm... but the arm which was throbbing was
not the one that the injection had gone in to. What was that all about. Just before I went back to work I posted to
Facebook to tell the world that I had had the jab in the hope I might scare
up some crackpot reaction. It has to be said that I had been hoping for
"you must be mad - no one know what is in that untested muck – my
grannie’s cat’s girlfriend said that Elon Musk uses the co-called vaccine to
inject you with tracking microchips" reactions from people who have
no idea what is in their tattoo ink or what makes their sparkly gin so
glittery. But all I got was support and mild jealousy that I got the jab so
early. Perhaps the nut-case element were safe in their tin-foil helmets? I came home via Aldi as I was short on shower
gel. Whilst I was at it I got one or two other bits and bobs, and tried not
to scream out loud as about fifty or so of the Great Unwashed blundered about
utterly oblivious that there were forty-nine or so other people
in the shop. As I walked out a colleague of mine was walking in. I warned her
that no one was watching where they were going. The two people following me
had the good grace to go red, look at their feet and mumble apologies. I came home to an empty house… I say “empty”
– there were more dogs than sense but "er indoors TM"
was missing. I wonder where she’s gone – I wonder who will cook my tea? |
|
30 December 2020
(Wednesday) - Happy Birthday Sid
Someone was snoring for much of the night. "er
indoors TM" or one of the dogs? Whoever it was, I wish
they would be quiet next time. I finally nodded off just before the alarm
went off and came downstairs maybe thirty seconds too late to get Sid into
the garden (bless him!) I watched another episode of “Motherland”
as I scoffed a bowl of granola, then had my morning rummage round the
Internet. Facebook was on the dull side. No one was squabbling at all, which
was probably for the best. Other than aliens having
phoned from Alpha Centauri, pretty much nothing at all had happened
overnight (and it later transpired that the aliens were a false alarm). I sent out birthday wishes, then got myself
ready for work. Pausing only briefly for Munzee
purposes I went off to find my car. It was easy to find - it was the one
under all the ice. Five minutes of vigorous scraping soon got it ready to go
and I set off work-wards. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about
various countries’ attitudes toward taxation and funding of public services.
Great show was made of the American tax system in which tax rates are very
low compared to other countries; the idea being a very small state-run sector
is a good thing. If the public want anything at all they can pay for it from
private sector suppliers on an as-needed-for-profit basis. For example
why should I fund schools when my children stopped going to them fifteen
years ago? Or why should I pay for the hospitals which I use oh-so-rarely? Personally I don't hold with this school of
thought – Take the hospitals that I don’t use very often. When I do use them
(like my nasal surgery or my dodgy hip of last year) I run up a bill
of thousands which I am very glad that I don’t have to pay myself. And
following on from that example... Veterinary care is provided by the private
sector here in the UK and is a microcosm of the pay-as-you-need-it
American healthcare system. Fudge's iffy kidneys cost me the thick end
of sixty quid a month. As it was pointed out on the radio, American health
care is effectively a luxury for the rich. As I did my bit at work so my phone rang. It
was my local hospital. I had an out-patient appointment with then in a few
weeks' time as a follow-up to the surgery I'd had done on my nose last year.
They'd phoned me to cancel the appointment. They've cancelled all out-patient
appointment for January. That's a tad worrying - so much for the
COVID-deniers, eh? With work done I came home and spent a little
while on the insurance comparison websites. Bearing in mind the savings I
made by consolidating mobile phone, telly and internet with Sky, and also
bearing in mind I halved the cost of our house building and contents
insurance I wondered if I might get a more competitive quote for Fudge. I couldn’t. What with his spondylosis and his chronic
kidney failure, no company wanted to take him on. We shall stick with what
we’ve got as we seem to have little choice. And in closing, today is Sid’s birthday. He
is ten. Of all the dogs he has been in the family the longest and is firmly
at the bottom of the pecking order. He’s a lazy little thing, often going to
hide when “walkies” is mentioned. He’s a greedy little thing, being
first in the queue whenever there is any hint of scraps of food. He’s ten today. |
|
31 December 2020
(Thursday) - New Year's Eve (?)
Despite a rather vivid nightmare in which I
had been charged with running the work’s pantomime (Avenue Q) at
incredibly short notice I slept well, waking only a minute or so before the
alarm. I came downstairs and chivvied Sid round the
garden where he tiddled, wandered around, then bimbled
back into the kitchen; finally dropping turds as he came in. Just as I
finished clearing up so Fudge came downstairs. At least he is capable of
going outside unsupervised. I did my COVID-19 test; despite having been
jabbed I still have to do them every four days. Then as I scoffed brekkie I
watched an episode of “Motherland” before having my daily morning
perusal of the Internet. There was a minor squabble kicking off on one of the
local Facebook pages in which a well-meaning young mother had tried to
organise a charity cake sale and was getting rather harsh criticism from some
misery-guts who clearly had no intention of doing anything public-spirited.
As I have said before, no good deed ever goes unpunished. My Facebook feed featured adverts for a local
milkman. I suppose he’s not *that* much more expensive than the
supermarket, but I can remember walking to school back in the day when
doorstep deliveries of milk were commonplace. For those of my loyal readers
who are too young to remember, back in the days when dinosaurs walked the
Earth, milkmen would drive round at silly o’clock in the morning delivering
milk. They would leave it on your doorstep so that when you got up you’d have
milk waiting for you. However the local blue tits would peck open the bottles
to get at the milk, and bottles on the doorstep were fair game for passing
schoolkids – not to drink but to throw around. I sent out birthday wishes, and got ready for
work. Just as I was finishing scraping the ice from
my car one of the normal people came past walking his dog. I was rather
impressed - I couldn't see my wolf-pack getting their arses out of bed quite
so early in the morning. I said "Hello Pup" to the dog (as
I do to most dogs), and that clearly put the wind up the normal person.
He sort-of squirmed, and with a very sickly smile muttered "good
morning sir" and hurried off as quickly as he could. I drove half a mile out of my way to Hawks Way
where there was a geocache I'd not found before. Bearing in mind there is
usually an e-souvenir to be had for logging a find on New Year's Eve I
thought a quick find wouldn't hurt. I found the cache - I didn't get an
e-souvenir. After a little farting about I found out that this year the
e-souvenir wasn't just for New Year's Eve - it was for any time in the last
week of the year and I'd actually received it on Monday afternoon whilst
rummaging in a hedgerow five miles from my mother's house. I've rather got out of geocaching recently.
Since all the lock-downs and tiers we've not been able to meet up, and the
on-line geo-places have been invaded by the keyboard warriors. So many
hobbies are spoiled by those who don't actually do the hobby but stir up arguments
about it instead. When lock-downs lift things will improve as there is no way
any of the rather nasty people seemingly infesting cyberspace would ever want
to meet anyone in person, but for now hunting Tupperware has become something
of a lonely pursuit. As I drove up the motorway the Education
Minister was being interviewed on the radio... I say "being
interviewed"; "being harangued" might have been a
more accurate description of what was going on. For all that he is a bit of a
tit, he did sum up the frustration I was feeling when he (rather tersely)
snapped at his inquisitor "... if I could be allowed to finish a
single sentence". However at that point the interviewer actually
closed her mouth and let him speak more than a few words, thereby allowing
him to prove what a twit he was. Not only did he claim that black was white
and shit was sugar, he said that schools both would and would not
re-open in January. He claimed that all the problems of the schools would be
solved by the troops that were being deployed to assist, even though there
would only be one thousand five hundred troops spread out over the nation's
three thousand four hundred (and something) secondary schools. Having
a degree in mathematics, I've worked that out to be one soldier for every two
(and a bit) schools. And the minister was rather vague about exactly
what these soldiers would be doing in the schools anyway. But, as I've said before, it is easy to knock
the government. How many of us have ever stood up for public office? Personally
I wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Throwing rocks from the sidelines is so much easier. I got to work rather later than usual and (as
ever) did my bit. Today I had something of a "platelet clumps"
day and may well wax loquacious about the things elsewhere on the Internet over
the next few days. I came home to a very clingy dog. Fudge was
very quiet and subdued and wouldn’t leave my side. I think he’s sickening for
something. "er indoors TM" boiled up a
very good bit of dinner which we washed down with probably far too much
giggle juice. Usually New Year’s Eve is a gathering of the clans in
Folkestone for Spanish New Year, but COVID-19 had put paid to that for this
year. The plan is a Zoom cyber-meet-up for midnight… if we are still awake. And that’s it for another year… At the
beginning of the year I wrote “Here’s hoping for the future…” This last year has been an odd one. It started very well with a bracing walk on
New Year’s Day. I ran what I thought was a very good geo-meet in February. We
had a particularly good few days away in Cambridgeshire over my birthday. We
had a very good week away in Wiltshire over the summer. Interspersed with
this were quite a few weekend walks. I could have done so much more if not for
that global pandemic which rather pissed on everyone’s chips… Realistically
it will pogger up 2021 probably just as much as it
did 2020. I have a naďve optimism about life. I try to hope for the best
whilst expecting the worst. It is a philosophy which seems to work… and I
think that it will be rather applicable for the next few months… |
