Yesterday morning I managed to virtually complete the clearance of the brambles and weeds at the end of the garden. I did the work before it got to hot. Not a good idea to be outside in direct sunshine. There is still some more to do, but it can wait as I'm not risking going out in the blazing sun.
Carol needed to go back to the oncology department at Milton Keynes Hospital at 2.20 yesterday afternoon because they needed to check the P.I.C.C. line which was used to administer the chemotherapy. We got to the carpark and there were fortunately two or three spaces so that was one less thing to worry about. A woman came in and got in the way as we were attempting to park. Some people just don't seem to care so long as they get what they want, regardless of the other person. Never mind. It was far too hot to argue anyway. We walked into the oncology department and it was a lot cooler than outside. Not many patients. Quite a few of the chairs empty, but few staff to deal with things, as usual, so what nurses were available seemed to be doing several people's work. Carol was soon seen and went into the little room to have her line checked. She may have the line taken out, depending on what the next stage of her treatment is, and probably not until she's seen the consultant next Friday.
We walked back to the car and got out without having to use the ticket machine because the barrier was raised. All that bother to get the ticket checked and then there's no need to use it. It's so irritating that you have this constant annoyance and then the thing doesn't work properly or at all. Never mind, it's them that's loosing the cash involved if it doesn't work.
Some form of refreshment was in order, due to the heat. We drove to Oakgrove, a short drive along Chaffron Way and parked near Waitrose. We went into the nearby Costa and had cold drinks, their tasty strawberry-and-cream cooler which did the trick. It was fascinating to sit and watch people passing by as we sat inside. I can't say I was exactly over-enthusiatsit about the music they were playing in Costa's. That droning, reparative drivel that passes for modern pop music. It was awful. Why is it necessary? As we sat inside Costas we could see children walking past. It was only about 3 o'clock. They were leaving school. From the comprehensive school just over the road from Waitrose and Costa, Oakgrove School. A very different lot of children to those who attend Milton Keynes Academy. They look far neater in their dress. All wearing uniforms, with blazers with the school symbol emblazoned on them. Ties done up neatly (not just the boys, but also the girls.) Not in the least bit scruffy. Talking quietly. Amazing, but having said that, somewhat boring. I bet the behaviour is better than at the Academy. But somehow they looked mechanical, almost robotic. Too good to be true. This was going me ideas. As I'm watching the Channel Four series 'Humans' about robots or 'synths' these children do have the look and feel of synths. It could be as if they were being controlled. Just the impression I got somehow. Think also of the Cybermen in 'Doctor Who.' Just a bit creepy. There's a story brewing in my mind . . .
I'm not in the least bit interested in football, and not bothered by the World Cup. There was a match on yesterday evening at 7 o'clock. England versus Belgium. Regardless of whether you've an interest or not there is the constant drip drip drip of football . . . football. . . football. Everywhere you go. The supermarkets are stocked up with beer, pizza, Coca Cola, and all the paraphernalia they expect people to want to buy. Nothing wrong with that. I suppose it's better than Brexit. The warm weather is adding to the excitement. Our neighbours were having a party or a barbecue. They were having guests. Quite a few cars drawing up outside the house. The time for kick-off was approaching. Carol was upstairs watching on the bedroom television. I was downstairs, completing the Futurelearn course on Shakespeare. I did watch the England v Panama match with Carol the other afternoon, although I wasn't concentrating too closely. Just doesn't do it for me. No sense of engagement. I think they over-do the build up to such sporting events. Then afterwards the endless discussion, the dissecting of the game, the post mortem. They go on and on and on and on and on and on. Fair enough, but some of us are bored silly.
The football match wasn't exactly setting the world on fire. You would have known something was going on if there had been a goal scored. No cheers from next door, or from upstairs. It was after an hour or so that I ventured upstairs and there was a 0-0 scoreline. Carol said it was 'boring.' But looking at the screen, it looks remarkably like some sort of computer game. The grass on the pitch is too green, more like carpet. The players look like computerised graphics. If you remember the television show, which must have been one of the first things on Channel 4 when it started in 1982, called 'Max Headroom.' He was a computerised character. Well, the players look very much like him. Unrealistic looking. Tanned, with over-styled hair. They seem to move in a sort of artificial manner to me. It looks really dull and lifeless. Why? Loads of advertising all around the ground. What on earth is Wanda? It was being advertised at the edge of the pitch. You can't ignore the advertising. It's there, centre-stage if you like. I know the advertising is essential to the funding of these events, but it does tend to intrude. Is Wanda a person? An insurance company? A beer? A soft drink? Goodness only knows, but whatever she is, she's got a lot to answer for. The sport is being taken over by money. The players are payed in telephone numbers, for merely kicking a ball around on a piece of grass for 90 minutes. Hence the advertising. I think I may have answered my own earlier question. Too much money and if I was looking at the advertising, even if it was for a company I'd never heard of, at least I was thinking about that (which is earning money) even if it wasn't the football.
Carol needed to go back to the oncology department at Milton Keynes Hospital at 2.20 yesterday afternoon because they needed to check the P.I.C.C. line which was used to administer the chemotherapy. We got to the carpark and there were fortunately two or three spaces so that was one less thing to worry about. A woman came in and got in the way as we were attempting to park. Some people just don't seem to care so long as they get what they want, regardless of the other person. Never mind. It was far too hot to argue anyway. We walked into the oncology department and it was a lot cooler than outside. Not many patients. Quite a few of the chairs empty, but few staff to deal with things, as usual, so what nurses were available seemed to be doing several people's work. Carol was soon seen and went into the little room to have her line checked. She may have the line taken out, depending on what the next stage of her treatment is, and probably not until she's seen the consultant next Friday.
We walked back to the car and got out without having to use the ticket machine because the barrier was raised. All that bother to get the ticket checked and then there's no need to use it. It's so irritating that you have this constant annoyance and then the thing doesn't work properly or at all. Never mind, it's them that's loosing the cash involved if it doesn't work.
Some form of refreshment was in order, due to the heat. We drove to Oakgrove, a short drive along Chaffron Way and parked near Waitrose. We went into the nearby Costa and had cold drinks, their tasty strawberry-and-cream cooler which did the trick. It was fascinating to sit and watch people passing by as we sat inside. I can't say I was exactly over-enthusiatsit about the music they were playing in Costa's. That droning, reparative drivel that passes for modern pop music. It was awful. Why is it necessary? As we sat inside Costas we could see children walking past. It was only about 3 o'clock. They were leaving school. From the comprehensive school just over the road from Waitrose and Costa, Oakgrove School. A very different lot of children to those who attend Milton Keynes Academy. They look far neater in their dress. All wearing uniforms, with blazers with the school symbol emblazoned on them. Ties done up neatly (not just the boys, but also the girls.) Not in the least bit scruffy. Talking quietly. Amazing, but having said that, somewhat boring. I bet the behaviour is better than at the Academy. But somehow they looked mechanical, almost robotic. Too good to be true. This was going me ideas. As I'm watching the Channel Four series 'Humans' about robots or 'synths' these children do have the look and feel of synths. It could be as if they were being controlled. Just the impression I got somehow. Think also of the Cybermen in 'Doctor Who.' Just a bit creepy. There's a story brewing in my mind . . .
I'm not in the least bit interested in football, and not bothered by the World Cup. There was a match on yesterday evening at 7 o'clock. England versus Belgium. Regardless of whether you've an interest or not there is the constant drip drip drip of football . . . football. . . football. Everywhere you go. The supermarkets are stocked up with beer, pizza, Coca Cola, and all the paraphernalia they expect people to want to buy. Nothing wrong with that. I suppose it's better than Brexit. The warm weather is adding to the excitement. Our neighbours were having a party or a barbecue. They were having guests. Quite a few cars drawing up outside the house. The time for kick-off was approaching. Carol was upstairs watching on the bedroom television. I was downstairs, completing the Futurelearn course on Shakespeare. I did watch the England v Panama match with Carol the other afternoon, although I wasn't concentrating too closely. Just doesn't do it for me. No sense of engagement. I think they over-do the build up to such sporting events. Then afterwards the endless discussion, the dissecting of the game, the post mortem. They go on and on and on and on and on and on. Fair enough, but some of us are bored silly.
The football match wasn't exactly setting the world on fire. You would have known something was going on if there had been a goal scored. No cheers from next door, or from upstairs. It was after an hour or so that I ventured upstairs and there was a 0-0 scoreline. Carol said it was 'boring.' But looking at the screen, it looks remarkably like some sort of computer game. The grass on the pitch is too green, more like carpet. The players look like computerised graphics. If you remember the television show, which must have been one of the first things on Channel 4 when it started in 1982, called 'Max Headroom.' He was a computerised character. Well, the players look very much like him. Unrealistic looking. Tanned, with over-styled hair. They seem to move in a sort of artificial manner to me. It looks really dull and lifeless. Why? Loads of advertising all around the ground. What on earth is Wanda? It was being advertised at the edge of the pitch. You can't ignore the advertising. It's there, centre-stage if you like. I know the advertising is essential to the funding of these events, but it does tend to intrude. Is Wanda a person? An insurance company? A beer? A soft drink? Goodness only knows, but whatever she is, she's got a lot to answer for. The sport is being taken over by money. The players are payed in telephone numbers, for merely kicking a ball around on a piece of grass for 90 minutes. Hence the advertising. I think I may have answered my own earlier question. Too much money and if I was looking at the advertising, even if it was for a company I'd never heard of, at least I was thinking about that (which is earning money) even if it wasn't the football.
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