Sunday. 6.00 a.m. A really warm and sunny day yesterday, but this morning I was somewhat surprised to find it considerably cooler and raining when I took Alfie out at around 5.20.
Before you ask, no, I didn't watch the Eurovision Song Contest. It was great that Ukraine won, but I think it was more because of support for this war-torn country. Britain coming second was amazing, considering how poorly we've done over the past few years. Russia had been kicked out because of their invasion of Ukraine. A good job too, the way they're behaving to their neighbour. I have to say Eurovision isn't my sort of thing, as generally the music is just plain awful and the whole thing, which takes hours and hours, is one yawn as far as I'm concerned. Carol and I used to record the whole shebang, and then play it back, skipping out the long-drawn-out bits. Generally, it's become far too political, not helped because of the result of the 2016 EU vote, where Britain voted to leave.
11.30 p.m. I'm wide awake. The same old thing had to go to the loo and lay awake. Somewhere, in one of the nearby flats, there's a radio or something on, chattering voices. I'm not sure exactly, as I've heard it before, not loud, but still in the background. Strange, as if it was radio, there would be occasional music, like in commercials, or between programmes. It's continual. Still a mystery. Then, it starts to rain, a heavy storm, which has finished as I write this but still sounds quite heavy. No doubt there will be flooding when I go out early in the morning, no doubt puddles all the way along Strudwick Drive.
I'd better shut down the MacBook, go back to bed, and try to get back to sleep. Not going to happen, so I think I might read.
Trying to come up with a half-decent title for a blog post is quite difficult. It needs to relate to the content of the post, which isn't always easy. Punchy, eye-catching. I don't know exactly why I chose this title, which comes from Henry V, by William Shakespeare.
Monday. 5.40 a.m. I'm up bright and early and have already taken Alfie out. A light rain.
I'm watching the ITV drama, The Thief, His Wife and The Canoe. Excellent series and certainly gripping. How long can they keep the pretence that the husband, played by Eddie Marsan, going before the whole house of cards collapses? Faking his own death and then coming back to live in the house next door and then his wife making a claim on his life insurance to pay off their debts. Based on a real incident from the early 2000s. I think the 'edge of the seat' part of it, is what keeps you watching to find out what happens next. Brilliant. But why does his wife go along with it? If she was to refuse to cooperate, they would have escaped being done for fraud.
10.20 a.m. Just been to Sainsbury's to do a top-up of one or two items.
Workmen gradually getting nearer to my flat to install a new door. They are scheduled to replace mine tomorrow, so I think I will just have to grin and bear the noise for a day until it is complete. There is no way I'm exposing my flat to any sort of theft, what with the various items, including this MacBook Pro.
7.00 p.m. I went out with Alfie around 1.20p.m. As we came out of the door onto the path alongside Strudwick Drive, I noticed a police car parked in the middle of the road at the entrance of the roundabout at the intersection of Strudwick Drive and Dexter Avenue. It had its blue lights flashing and then I could see a breakdown truck loading up what looked like some sort of sports car and further along, yet another police car. It wasn't clear what had happened, whether there had been a collision with another vehicle, but no sign of one and the road coned off, Then one of the breakdown crew started pouring what looked like some sort of powder onto the road surface. Probably there had been a fuel or oil spill and this was to soak it up. I didn't stop too long to find out what had happened as we walked in the opposite direction along the path towards Oldbrook Green.
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