by My hours are way down again. That means I can tackle my pretty lengthy non-work to-do list, but that also means making decisions about how and in what order and that in turn means increased stress. When I’m busier with work, my stress levels tend to go down if anything. Tomorrow I’m getting the car’s brakes looked at because they squeak when I brake for more than a few seconds and I’d rather not have dodgy brakes when I’ve got some long trips planned. It would have made sense to do that when I had the ITP done two weeks ago (that’s the equivalent of a WOF in New Zealand) but the chap at the ITP station wasn’t that easy to deal with. (The car passed its ITP without any trouble. I always got very excited when my car passed its WOF in NZ. That only happened three or four times in all the years I was there, and those inspections were six-monthly.)
Biden has pulled out. Far too late, but still, hooray! They must have read him the riot act because he seemed pretty sticky for a while there. I have nothing against Biden, but if he’d clung on, a Trump win (plus Republican control of all branches of government) was a virtual certainty. It may still turn out that way, but there’s some chance now of a non-terrifying outcome. Kamala Harris is just about nailed-on to replace Biden as the Democratic nominee.
Yesterday I watched the final round of the golf. I’ll be honest, I was hoping for mayhem. Howling gales, horizontal rain, scores drifting into the Firth of Clyde and sailing off the map entirely. That’s basically what did happen in rounds two and three. Guys with all their fancy laser tech being outdone by the elements. But what wind there was died down over the last round. It was chaotic over the first few holes because the sheer number of contenders made it hard to keep up, but around the turn they gradually whittled themselves down until one player – Xander Schauffele – pulled away. He shot a virtually error-free 65 and won by two shots over Billy Horschel and Justin Rose. I remember Rose’s incredible finish as an amateur at the 1998 Open, back when I watched it every year. He turned professional immediately and (famously) didn’t make the cut for absolutely ages, but since then he’s forged a successful career for himself, including a win at the US Open. Just like in ’98, they showed a close-up of the engraver about to etch the winner’s name on the trophy. With a name like Xander Schauffele, there were plenty of ways to mess up. I’m glad I watched the golf, even though the sport (like so much else) has entered the dark side recently. The third round in particular was pure theatre. I noted that the metric system has yet to make into the world of golf, in either Britain or America. I don’t mind a bit of good old imperial occasionally, but when a British commentator described the sea water as pretty chilly at only 54 degrees, that’s where I draw the line.
I can’t wait to get away. The UK trip is the one I’m looking forward to the most. No obligations, nowhere I have to go, no people I have to see.
