Thank goodness the whole GDPR thing is over…or is it? I’m convinced the whole thing was a smoke screen to entrap more people and gather even more information by stealth. I keep telling my sons beware your social media accounts and what you put out there. Of course my knowledge of the online world pales into insignificance compared with their know-how. But the innocence/ignorance of youth trumps their online savvy.
Anyway half term and the last bank holiday came and went. I took an extra day off so I could do something with my youngest son. The oldest one was off faster than a ferret up a drainpipe when I suggested a day out, there was no way he was going to be seen with his mother, but my youngest is still at the age when going somewhere with his mum is not too painful, however he’s also at the age where a promise of an ice cream and a trip to the Castle Museum in Taunton just doesn’t cut it; lunch in Costa was an acceptable compromise.
someone was viewing my profile and there it was
It was quite a nice afternoon, until we got back to the car and found a parking fine slapped on the windscreen. I was fuming because there was my 2 hour parking ticket clearly displayed in the window. Long story short, they let me off with a warning that I must display the ticket in my front windscreen. But here’s the thing, before I received the email letting me know I was off the hook, they searched my online identity. LinkedIn let me know someone was viewing my profile and there it was, Somerset County Council.
What were they doing, sussing me out before they accepted I was telling the truth? Or was the parking fines clerk rather bored that day so he/she decided to have a snoop around?
Other than the May Bank Holiday, summer also brings our summer migrants.
a kettle of swallows arrived at the theatre this week
A kettle of swallows arrived at the theatre this week. They were screeching and swooping around the corner of the building performing their remarkable aerobatic display. Their agility and dashing a marked difference with the golloping squabbling of the scavenging seagulls.
Talking of speed, someone kindly reminded me it’s the solstice in less than 3 weeks time after which the days get progressively shorter. Be Christmas before you know it.
It was so warm on Saturday, I decided to go for a swim after all my hard work in the garden, so at 5 o’clock I made my way down to the beach. There were not many people in the sea which should have been a warning, however, undeterred I walked nimbly into the gentle surf. It was probably more down to my determination to go for a swim than anything else but the shock of the cold water quite took my breath away as I quickly launched myself from a standing position into the water.
my frog legs have metamorphosised
I was never a champion swimmer at school; entered into the freestyle race once I think I came third, but something has happened to my breaststroke over the years. My top half does what it’s meant to; my fingers remember to stay together and my arms reach forward then out in a frog like movement, but from the waist down my frog legs have metamorphosised into a kind of twist with a half-hearted semi side-stroke kind of thing. But lack of frogs legs aside, my mind was otherwise occupied; there were some sort of particles in the water that I felt with every stroke and I wasn’t the only one, I heard another swimmer commenting on the strange phenomena.
I haven’t seen anything on social media about it, but given the obvious surveillance I am under, I will expect an answer to my quandary over the next few days albeit through the medium of adverts, news stories or ‘tailored’ information streams.