Chipped, tagged, muzzled or crazed…it’s August!

If we are to believe what we read (and the jury is still out on that one) chip & pin will soon have a whole new meaning. On the local news this week, it was reported that a man has had a chip inserted in his hand that allows him to open doors by waving his hand in front of a sensor, among other things.
I can only wonder what happens if the chip moves. I mean, the vet told me that the chip they put in dogs’ shoulders, often moves around the body and is hard to find when they come to scan it. The next time we see this young man, will he be standing on his head or presenting his foot or another part of his anatomy, to the sensor before the door will open? This could be very inconvenient.
Doubtless the powers that be, have thought of this and the chip will not move – but couldn’t it be subject to a new sort of infection? A new computer virus perhaps? Could a lift of one’s hand induce a totally unexpected outcome? Could it cause mayhem? The mind boggles at the thought.
Apparently, the scientists behind this innovation, do not share my fears. A Wisconsin company is to become the first in the US to microchip employees, according to reports.
Goodness, I have only just got used to Contactless bank cards!
Exciting stuff indeed, if you like that sort of thing. If you prefer to turn a key in the lock then maybe it is not for you…yet.

Apart from taking in local news, I have been busy doing nothing for the past few weeks it seems. A holiday in Portugal, where spirits were refreshed and the body rested, went all too quickly. A weekend of dog and child care while youngest daughter and husband headed off to Rome to attend a wedding, greeted our return. It was good see all the grandchildren again and here are three of them, bathed and ready for bed on a Sunday evening, as they wait for their parents to return and ferry them home.

Charlie refused to be nice to the children’s new puppy from Romania, aptly named Beryl, so he had to wear a muzzle for much of the time, much to his disgust. We hope they will become friends eventually.

Flossie makes everyone welcome of course…

I have walked the dogs, taken grandchildren to the park and resumed my general Grandma duties this week. The weather is changeable, the long hot summer in which we sweltered and said goodbye to quilts and flung open our windows in the hope of attracting the slightest of breezes, has fled for the moment.

Wickham Festival is here again and last night we could be seen traipsing through the fields in our wellies, our newly acquired camp chairs on our back, identity bracelets on our wrists (no chips here except the deep-fried variety) and as we walked, we slipped, slid and sank into a river of mud and straw. (Glastonbury is not on my list of places to visit). We set down our chairs (comfort essential) on an island of dry straw and for a moment, I had cause to wonder why I was here. KT Tunstall sang melodiously and with gusto, in the background. I had to admit, there was a certain charm as the sun went down…

Today, it is sunny and dry. The day is warmer. The hope is that the mud will dry out and festival goers will not risk life and limb as they wander around in the slippery clay. Come to think of it, there was enough of the latter to throw a few pots last night.
I am a fair weather festival fan, it has to be said. Still, we were there for the first evening and we are sure to be there again during the weekend. My companions are more hardy than I and I will doubtless be pulled along by their enthusiasm.
Here we are, Dave and I, me looking slightly crazed, towards the end of the night. Well, it had to be done!