What day is it?

No it's not a trick question but sometimes the answer isn't so easy.

I did hear - anecdotally not from personal experience - that this question along with date, month and year, are some of the questions used to assess whether someone is suffering from dementia.

It is the typical sort of question that someone who works in an office would think is relevant. That's when your life is full of diaries, appointments and on-screen calendars with pop-up reminders that you invariably ignore.

In fact, you start to realise that it doesn't matter what day it is. If you go to work round here you invariably go six days out of seven. As long as you can count to six and you take the next day off that's all that matters. Or you might work seven days a week.

Anyway today is Tuesday. I know this because the Butane man comes around about 9am tooting his horn. So if you want a bottle of gas you leave yours outside and he changes it for you. Nobody is going to nick off with it because it is far too heavy.

Yesterday was Monday because the veg man came in the afternoon. Tomorrow is the only weekday when no-one comes so it is Wednesday. On Thursday the veg man comes again, and on Friday a different veg man comes (Friday veg man). Friday-man comes early, about 9am, and he toots his horn very loudly and then yells out "Twenty duros, everything for 20 duros."

Duros, note, not Euros. He is living in the past and has never changed his call. Just as well because if he called out the real prices no-one would ever go out to buy his veg. He is dearer than Monday/Thursday man.

So the logic goes - "Who comes today?" - and then you work out what day it is. Easy really. Apart from when the veg man doesn't come because of bad weather, or holidays, or some domestic incident, or you don't go out for anything.

You could look at the calendar, we have a couple of nice free ones from some animal feed suppliers. The Nagsa one is particularly stunning with great photos of Spain. But if you don't know what day yesterday was or tomorrow is, the calendar won't be much use.

The computer is though. I think one of the most useful and best-used of all the features on my singing, dancing, recording, calculating brain of the house is the day on the top right of the screen. So I can always cheat these days and nip in and look at the computer.


Aching muscles

Well, that says it all really. After all my contortions lying on my back and raising the desk in the air with my legs so that I could screw the adjustable legs down at the bottom (the desk's - not mine), I am now in agony.

A 50km cycle ride against the wind would have been easier with less after-effects.

Still the desk is at a better height, although it takes me some time to sit down at the moment. I never did have very good quads.


An hour forward

The clocks might be but I am certainly at least an hour behind. Regardless of what time I go to bed or get up, I am walking round like a zombie. And all this just for an hour's daylight in the evening. I would rather have it in the morning anyway. Zzzzzzzzzz

Dogs

What are dogs like?

Every morning ours comes in to wake us up for his early morning walk. Usually between 6.30 and 7am. Sometimes a little earlier, rarely later.

If The Early Morning Dog Walker (ie him not me - this is Men's Work) is feeling idle he tells Pipps to go away and come back in ten minutes.

Pipps trudges out, sighs, and flops loudly on the kitchen floor - where he can see the clock on the wall.

He waits the prescribed 10 minutes (obviously, watching the clock), and then comes in. Occasionally it's nine minutes.

There is no peace after that. He either runs in and out loudly, swinging his large tail around wildly and creating a nasty cold draught, or he sits at the side of the bed, battering The Early Morning Dog Walker with his huge feet.

Then there are a few loud stretches, a few HRRRMMMPHs, and some more running in and out. He is a loud dog in the morning, and we haven't even got on to breakfast time yet.

Anyway, I thought I'd have one over on the little monkey last night, so I didn't put the kitchen clock forward. I calculated that if I put it forward and he saw the clock, and came in at his usual 6.30am, that would be like 5.30am, which is a little too early for a Sunday. So I left it, thinking we wouldn't get a real lie-in, but we wouldn't be woken up at silly hours either.

Oh no. Pipps wasn't having a bar of that. He came in at quarter to six, ie real time quarter to seven. His normal time. He might as well have said, "Come on, I know the clocks have gone forward - who do you think you are kidding?"

I thought it was bad enough having a dog that could tell the time. But one who knows when the clocks go forward?

Edit - Pippa now has his own blog - so if you want to read any more about him please have a look.