I’m not entirely sure how serious this site is: How To Destroy The Earth. But it’s certainly interesting.

Destroying the Earth is harder than you may have been led to believe.
You’ve seen the action movies where the bad guy threatens to destroy the Earth. You’ve heard people on the news claiming that the next nuclear war or cutting down rainforests or persisting in releasing hideous quantities of pollution into the atmosphere threatens to end the world.
Fools.

…So we’re still delivering the wretched Yellow Pages. We’ve done about 130 miles on the job this week and still have another day to do. But we’ve seen some glorious countryside, and some wonderful properties – from a colonnade-fronted mansion straight out of Gone With The Wind and a Victorian hunting lodge set in many acres of carefully-tended gardens, to ramshackle structures seemingly held up by the scrap and rubbish stacked up around them. Oh, and the dogs we met – why do sheepdogs so often have eyes of different colours? Why are so many Labradors fat and slobbery? Why are so many supposed guard dogs so easily charmed by a kind word and a pat from a stranger? Why do tiny dogs have an irritating yappy bark that makes you long to kick them over the fence?
And as for the humans… some, living in isolated cottages miles from anywhere, were clearly unused to seeing people; one or two of them looked at us as if we were aliens, our little Fiat a disguised flying saucer, the directory we handed them some strange gift from another planet. But lots were friendly and interesting, happy for a chat.

So it’s been an interesting and busy week. Healthwise, I’m feeling much better, maybe the fresh air and getting out of the house has something to do with that. Having to give up work was quite a blow for me – not because of the money but because I met so many interesting people and got out and about generally. These days I’m a bit stuck in the house, and easily bored.
I’m very disappointed that we won’t be doing this job again. But the money just isn’t worth the work, not to mention the potential damage to our little car from going up and down those miles of rough unmade farm tracks.
Had my tests at the surgery today – been feeling so healthy that I fully expect them to find nothing wrong!

Needing some shopping today, we caught the bus into Dumfries. We had three hours in the town before catching the bus back – what we actually needed to do would have taken us under an hour. So we had a lot of time to waste.
In the town centre, we spotted a pipe band coming up the street. A couple of police officers were walking ahead, clearing the way. But they were hardly needed – nobody deliberately stands in front of a Scottish pipe band that is marching along in full badger-and-kilt playing “Scotland The Brave”!
The band was followed by a collection of British Legion men, cadets and a few representatives of the enmergency services – about 50 or so in all.
We wondered what it was all about. “Isn’t it the start of the Scottish Rally this weekend?” I remembered. “Must be that that then – they’re starting the race from here”
So we followed the band to the square, where a podium with chars had been set up in front of the Midsteeple; various local politicos and bechained dignitaries were already setting down their behinds on the chairs. There were crash barriers to hold back the crowds – but these were hardly needed either, as there seemed to be no more than a couple of hundred people present. There were certainly spare places to be had on the benches around, so we sat down to wait for the entrance of the cars and drivers.
Of which there was a conspicuous absence, despite the yawning space in the square. By the time we’d settled ourselves, the band and followers had gathered in front of the podium. There was a bit more marching, some bit of business with the British Legion flags. Then one of the dignitaries stood up and spoke. But from our bench far back, we couldn’t hear a word. There was a stand of loudspeakers in front of us, but unplugged, with the wiring rolled up around the base.
The speechifying – whatever it was about – didn’t take much time. There was a bit of applause. Then the band struck up and the procession slowly processed out again, while the dignitaries made their dignified exit. There was still no sign of any cars.
What it was all about, we had no idea, except that it clearly wasn’t anything to do with rallying. But it had had passed some time, and we set off towards a cafe to pass some more time.

It was only when I switched on the evening news tonight – thankfully, Jackomania seems to be on the wane – that I learned that today was the first national “Armed Forces Day“. Which even I had never heard of – and my calendar-keeping duties keep me on the lookout for news about holidays and national days.
It was of course on the local news; the Tyne Tees news (our ‘local’ ITV news station) even devoted about 30 seconds to the Dumfries event – all closeups and interior shots. There were no wide-angle shots of the tiny crowd and yawning spaces.
The outside reporter explained that this day was to honour surviving military veterans as well as serving military personnel, so it was really “Veterans’ Day”; the studio presenter then ended the item by turning to the camera with a cheery “And let’s hope this is just the first of many more Veterans’ Days to come!”

I wonder how long he spent removing his foot from his mouth?