Muddy waters

Walking the dog last night, I made the mistake of cutting across the field to come in through the gate at the bottom of our gardens. It was only a couple of weeks ago that this area was about a meter deep in flood water, but I thought that it had dried out. I hopped over the ditch that was the council's answer to flood control, but Barney walked across the middle of it and sank halfway up his stubby legs into foul smelling black gunk.

I tried wiping his paws with a towel, but the miasma lingered despite my best efforts so it was into the bath with him to get it cleaned off. He gave me a pathetic look as if to say "I've already had a bath this year - what do I need another one for?" but he did hop in and waited patiently while I hosed him down with the shower attachment.

In other news, it has been bucketing down with rain here in Dudley today and I've had to dodge downpours to go to Tesco to buy my lunch. I saw that they were selling off 1Gb SD cards so I picked one up for Alicia. It was in one of those security tagged boxes, but when the girl on the till opened it, it turned out that there was only a slip of paper in the box and you had to go to Customer Services to buy one. It actually cost less than some of the packets of quintuple bladed, diamond edged razor blades that get the same security box treatment. Grumph.

In other, other news, I've finished reading God Is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens. I think I need to review it properly, but suffice it to say that I was nodding in agreement as he put the metaphorical boot into the religious world view with considerable gusto. Probably not one for fans of Mother Theresa, Gandhi, the Dalai Lama or any other sacred cow that you care to think of (including sacred cows for that matter).

Finally, as you will know if you've been keeping up with my twitterings I've just got in after being stuck on the M1 for three hours. Still, a cup of freshly ground coffee later and I'm feeling almost human again.

PPS Uncle has a blog - hurrah!