Friday 18th March 2022

37 years ago, I started my forst proper job: in a checken fatory at Flixton, Suffolk. I would stay there five years, and only leave once I had been accepted into the Air Force.

I don't have dreams much now about the chicken factory, but I did for many years. I worked on the line doing various jobs, then packing wrapped whole birds before moving into "quality".

And here I am still, something to do with quality.

I have done a few things in my time, including discovering a new volcano, and helping a new European country be formed. But mostly it was a lot of dull, hanging round waiting for the bar to open.

At least with Thursday off, it meant that the weekend would arrive quicker, even if I would have to survive another four meetings that morning.

At least outside it was to be another glorious day, and it looks like that is to continue for maybe a week. Just work keeps getting in the way.

Being a Friday, Jools had yoga, so was up and dressed by six and then out of the door to the car. So, once whe was gone, I put the bins out and put new liners in the now empty bins in the kitchen. I finally fill the bird feeders, and my tasks were done.

The first meeting was easy enough, a replay of the video of Henrik's birthday presentation last week. Apparently, its all about the cake in India, and they really wanted to see that, so I uploaded the video to Flickr, and play it to them when they join the meeting, as well has having an social meeting, asking how things are in India.

I have a 1:1 with my soon to be ex-boss. It's fraught, because I am clearly not happy, and he is getting fed up me pointing out the issues we face, and that some of it is inexcusable. He agrees, but we have to move forward. But as I always do, I say if we can't understand how things got to this point, we are doomed to repeat the mistakes.

So it goes, so it goes.

The morning drags. I fill it with toast.

I like toast.

And dead on two, I am done for the week. I power the laptop down and pack it away. I can now think of something else for two and a half days.

I put on my boots and go for a walk.

I take a camera. Of course.

I walk up Station Road, as it was a sunny day, I had no coat, so had to keep moving to keep the chill off, as the wind was keen.

I go to the top track, now passable as the ground dries out, and I was hoping to see something new, although I wasn't hopeful. I did see a Peacock butterfly, but I only saw it after my heavy footsteps had disturbed it, I watched it fly over the hedge and away.

I carry on along the edge of Windy Ridge wood, but see no other butterflies, just a continuous carpet of Lesser Celandines lining the track. I can't remember them being here before, so it was surprising and welcome.

At the top of the track down past the farm, I stop at the bench and watch flocks of pigeons being chased by a small raptor.

I was getting cold, so walk down the hill, past the farm and up the slope to Fleet House, seeing nothing else exciting.

I arrive home, make a coffee, and wait for Jools to come home.

TShe gets back at four, we have another coffee and talks about our days, then wait for six and the music quiz, which I was dreadful at. I guessed Wu Tang Clan, when it was Nick Drake.

I scored zero points.

We head to Jen's where she had prepared chicken dippers and garlic boiled potatoes, which we hoover up before clearing up and eyes down for a game of Meld, which I don't win, and two hands into Queenie, Jools gets a run of four cards and scoops the small jackpot.

We leave for home, the roads quiet still despite the chaos at the port. An just past full yellow moon shone down.

Time for bed.