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1 October 2019
(Tuesday) - Nasal Re-Bore
Finding myself wide awake at two o’clock I
got up and spent a couple of hours working on my latest Wherigo project. By
half past three the second game (of sixteen) was written, tested and
ready. In this one you get to “follow the Yellow Brick Road” together
with some really irritating music. Flushed with success I then built the first
brainteaser game in less than an hour. I was rather impressed with how quickly this
all went together compared with the hard work and disasters I’d had with the
first game. I went back to bed just before four o’clock,
finally falling asleep five minutes before the alarm went off at half past
five. We got up, got ready and "er indoors TM"
dropped me at the day surgery unit at the Kent and Canterbury hospital.
Today’s operation had been scheduled for January 2017, but as I was starting
the new job I’d asked if we could put it off a little. What with one cock-up
after another by the admin I finally got the nasal re-bore today. I sat and waited with the Great Unwashed, and
tried not to laugh out loud at some of them. One bloke loudly announced that
he was going to get his wife a bar of chocolate as she’d not eaten since
yesterday. He got rather aggressive when the nursing staff told him that she
wasn’t to eat anything. He said that chocolate didn’t count as food, and then
listed every single brand of chocolate bar know to science just in case one
might be permitted. Finally he conceded defeat, and said he’d just get her
jelly babies and walked off (presumably in the direction of a shop). I got called through to a ward where I went
through all the paperwork with the nurse, and chatted with the anaesthetist
and the surgeon. I then got into the surgical gown, got my book out and
waited. There was a lot of waiting today. Mind you I think I waited better
than some did. After five minutes the chap in the next bay changed out of his
surgical garb back into his clothes and went up to the nurses’ station. He
loudly told them that because he was psychotic he was going out, and that
they could ring him on his mobile when they were ready for him. Another argument kicked off. And then there was a third set-to when some
chap was furious to be told that he couldn’t drive himself home after a
general anaesthetic. Despite having been told this months ago, he’d driven to
the hospital anyway, and was frantically phoning everyone he knew as the
staff were refusing to operate unless he could give them details of who would
be driving him home. And these people are allowed to vote, you
know… My time came. In the past when I’ve been
knocked out it has been in a side-room. Today I was taken into the operating
theatre to be gassed. I must admit it was rather daunting, but an hour later
I was sitting up in the recovery suite chatting with the staff. I was amazed
that my nose was clear and that I could breathe, and I was also amazed at how
well I seemed to be compared to everyone else who hadn’t come out of the
anaesthetic quite as well as I had. I was taken back to the ward where I sat and
waited. I read my book for a bit until the surgeon came for a chat. All had
gone well. He’d removed three polyps; each the size of a golf ball. Drips were removed, I got dressed. It wasn’t
long before Cheryl was outside to drive me home. Once home I slobbed in front of the telly for
a while. I felt rather spaced out; apparently once all the surgery was done
they’d dusted the inside of my sinuses with cocaine to restrict the bleeding. I dozed in front of the telly for quite a
while. I hope this cocaine wears off soon. |
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2 October 2019
(Wednesday) - Feeling “bleaugh”
I woke at four o’clock feeling a little more with-it
than I was when I went to bed last night. I still felt rather “bleaugh”,
and wondered if washing the gunge out of my sinuses might chirp me up. Part
of the post-operative recovery is saline sinal douches over the next few (sixteen)
weeks. I made up some salt solution, stood over the bathroom sink, and (using
the syringe they’d given me) I squirted a load of salt water into my
conk. It went up, I squirted more. There was a most
odd taste of salt around my right eye, and within a few seconds the sink looked
like a scene from that classic move “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre”. Whilst all that gunge needed to come out, I
can’t say that the process has chirped me up in any way, and I went back to
bed feeling considerably more “bleaugh” than when I’d got up. I then spent five minutes wrestling with
Treacle trying to get some of the duvet. I’ve often heard people say that
their dogs know when they are ill. My dogs may well know that I’m not feeling
at all right, but Treacle is certainly making no concessions over the matter. I dozed fitfully before finally getting up
just after seven o’clock. Over brekkie I took my newly-prescribed tablets.
Another week of steroids (I’d rather not) and antibiotics. The
antibiotics had a stern warning that the dose must be taken evenly throughout
the day; the dose being one tablet a day (!) Yesterday when in hospital I’d had a thought
about my new Wherigo project – are the picture puzzles going to be visible on
a phone screen? Are they going to be too big? I programmed in a quick dummy
zone (only took an hour), put my new bootlaces into my boots, and
walked the dogs out round the co-op field to test it. The testing went well; the walk could have
gone better. Feeling under the weather I didn’t want to be mixing with all
the normal people this morning so I thought we’d avoid them if we stuck to
the co-op field. It was a shame that OrangeHead had to come through as Fudge
always wants to walk off with her and has to be dragged back in his lead. And
then five minutes later her Chunky Little Friend came through too. Following the success of wheri-testing, with
the walk done I spent a couple more hours programming Wherigo until it was
time to take Fudge to the vet; he had an appointment to have his blood
pressure measured. We arrived and went straight in, and Fudge had the cuff
wrapped round his tail. Eight measurements were taken over ten minutes;
apparently in dogs only the systolic measurement is noted. I had mine
measured many times yesterday and it averaged about one hundred and twenty
mmHg. Fudge’s averaged at about a hundred and fifty. The given reference
range was between one hundred and twenty and one hundred and thirty, but no
concern is really expressed on measurements below one hundred and sixty as
being at the vets stresses dogs out anyway. We came home; Treacle was very indignant
about having been left home-alone, and told me so in no uncertain terms. Over
a spot of lunch I watched the last episode of “Nightflyers”; a series
which started badly and got progressively worse as it went on. I then took shirts out of the washing machine
and ironed them as I started watching “Pride and Prejudice” on
Netflix… but that can be our little secret. The instructions I had when
leaving hospital yesterday specifically said that I was not to use a washing
machine for twenty-four hours after being discharged. To be honest I was
intrigued as to why I shouldn’t use a washing machine, and was determined to
find out why. Nothing went wrong (which was probably for the best).
Flushed with success at washing shirts I stuck a load of undercrackers in to
scrub. With shirts ironed I made myself feel ill by
washing out my sinuses again, then settled down to program more Wherigo.
Having found out what a “rebus” is from Monday’s crossword puzzle, I
decided to incorporate rebuses (rebi?) into the project. Having done
so, I’ve now included a shooting gallery, another mind-teaser, and think I
know the way forward for putting in a cockney rhyming slang dictionary. "er indoors TM" came home a tad
earlier than expected, and we phoned "Stormageddon - Bringer of
Destruction TM" who was five today. We’d decided against
going to see him – he doesn’t need too much distraction on a school day. We had a rather good bit of dinner then
watched a couple of episodes of the new series of “Plebs”. I think an
early night as definitely in order. As well as all the excitement of
yesterday I’m feeling a tad iffy. "er indoors TM"
bought me a tub of Quality Street as a get-well pressie and I scoffed the
lot… |
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3 October 2019
(Thursday) - Still Feeling Grotty
I slept for six hours last night, and woke
feeling rather chipper. I got up, make up my saline solution, washed out my
sinuses, and felt worse than I did when I came out of that anaesthetic a
couple of days ago. I went from feeling fine to having headache, dizziness,
toothache and intermittently pouring blood-stained snot from my nose for the
next hour. Still, judging by the amount of muck that
comes out of my conk when I give it the douche, I dare say it is better out
than in. And this is only day two - I’ve got a couple of weeks before I need
to be well enough for work. I had a little look at Facebook over brekkie
and sniggered. There seems to be a growth industry in pages devoted to
traffic and travel in which all sorts of people offer all sorts of
suggestions about the best way to drive down a road. Very few of these who
are offering such sage advice would seem to be acquainted with the tried and
tested Highway code. One chap in particular appears over many of these pages.
Being a lorry-driver he seems to have a great chip on his shoulder about the
matter. Why do people hate lorry drivers he asks? From what I read on these
pages, people don’t dislike lorry drivers in general, they dislike him being
a twit. Given that he is driving from one point to another some fifty miles
away, why isn’t he taking the motorway rather than ranting about how narrow
the country lanes are when he has no need to have his lorry on a country
lane? I also had an email from Amazon asking me to
rate my recent transaction. Perhaps my head was still spinning, but I
sarcastically waxed lyrical about the rapture that was a new pair of
bootlaces. Isn’t this a sign of our times; you can’t just buy a pair of
bootlaces; you are expected to judge the quality of the entire “buying
bootlaces” experience. Despite my better judgement I took the dogs
out for a walk round the park. As I walked into the park my phone rang. It
was the local hospital’s waiting list department who wanted to arrange a date
for my polypectomy. I suggested that we might go with last Tuesday. They had
no record that the surgery had already been done. With that level of
incompetence it is hardly surprising that I waited nearly three years for the
operation. When I was at the hospital two days ago I could not fault the
place in any way. But actually getting the surgery booked took some doing. As we walked round the park I got chatting
with OrangeHead who had spotted Fudge’s shaved areas. Her dog has an enlarged
liver, but rather than treating him with tried and tested medicines, she’s
giving him some homeopathic rubbish. Although it has been proved to do sod
all, homeopathic stuff does have the advantage of being cheaper than
effective medicines. As OrangeHead receded into the distance my
phone rang again. It was the vet. She said that Fudge’s blood pressure was
borderline, and she didn’t want to start him on medication for it just yet. I
was pleased about that, but when the time comes we will have proper medicine. We came home and fed the pond fish. Having
got over-excited barking at them, both dogs ran round the house for half an
hour barking at anything and everything until they finally wore themselves
out. I ran round with the Hoover and did a bit of
washing. With two weeks sick leave I have so much I might be doing, but these
doctors know what they are talking about. They’ve given me sick leave because
they knew I wouldn’t be good for much. After I’d hung out the washing I felt
like death warmed up. I made myself a cuppa, then continued with my
Wherigo project. I can do that when sitting quietly. In addition to the
yellow brick road, shooting gallery and several brain-teasers I thought I
might include a bingo hall. This kept me constructively occupied up till lunch
time. Over a bite of KFC I watched the second episode of “Pride and
Prejudice” then incorporated a quadratic equation and a petting zoo into my
Wherigo. The quadratic equation took half an hour; the petting zoo took most
of the afternoon. As I wrote logic tree after logic tree my
canine associates guarded the front window. If anyone so much as walked past
the house on the other side of the road, the pair of them went ballistic.
Despite feeling rather grim I spent much of the afternoon sniggering; the
dogs were utterly unaware to two blokes from the water board who were in the
back garden trying to sort out the back-up from next door’s drainage disaster. By the time "er indoors TM"
came home I was beginning to feel more human. I made up some more salt
solution to wash out my conk and made myself feel ill again. I like being
able to breathe again, but this constantly feeling ill is getting rather
wearing… |
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4 October 2019
(Friday) - Wedding Anniversary
I slept for nine hours last night. I must be
ill. I got up feeling relatively alive, and thought I might spoil everything
by washing out my sinuses. But I had a theory; a little less salt in the
washing solution made for a much less nasty experience. I shall bear that in
mind. Over brekkie I peered into the Internet. It
was much as it has been. A minor squabble was kicking off about the “shared
space” area in town which cars and pedestrians can both use at the same
time. Obviously when walking in the area one does run the risk of being run
over by a car. However if the relevant authority declares that this is
officially “safe”, then “safe” it is, and no amount of
complaining and protesting will ever achieve anything. Despite not feeling on top form I took the
dogs out. We walked past some of the places which I shall be using as final
locations in my Wherigo project, and I took some photos of exactly where the
geocaches of the Wherigo will be hidden. In my newest Wherigos I’ve taken to
giving a photo of the final location as well as GPS co-ordinates to try to
help people get to where they are supposed to be. People tend to get a tad precious over GPS
co-ordinates. Despite it being pretty much impossible to get any two
location-measuring devices to agree within five metres, everyone is insistent
that their personal gizmo is spot on, and everyone else’s is rubbish. So, as
well as giving GPS numbers, I’ve taken to putting a picture as well. There are
those who are saying that in doing so I’m making it too easy. Ironically it
is the very people who quibble about the co-ordinates being inaccurate who
don’t like the spoiler photos. Ho-hum… As we walked through the park the dogs chased
a squirrel. The squirrel ran, and jumped on a bench where it stopped (obviously
feeling it had eluded canine pursuit). Its face was a picture when
Treacle jumped onto the bench too. We came home to find next door in our garden.
They are having trouble with their drains and had the nice man from Southern
Water sending an aquatic camera down in amongst the turds. Apparently
something has collapsed in their drain and there is now a load of rats and
shingle down there (in with the turds). I can remember when (four sets of
neighbours ago) their extension was built and I was dubious as to whether
they’d be able to access their drains. As next door and Southern Water played
poo-submarines, I came over very hot and felt quite ill. But then, that’s
what being on sick leave is all about, isn’t it? So I sat and carried on writing Wherigo. I
incorporated a running bit into the maze. Given a certain time to get between
two points judges whether or not you win that part of the game. The running
bit is about thirty seconds; the coding took two hours to write. I got myself a sandwich, and watched an
episode of “Pride and Prejudice” before spending the afternoon writing
a virtual metal detector. I think I got myself convoluted in layers of
programming as I certainly made hard work of it. Having eventually sorted it
out I watched more “Pride and Prejudice” (in which Mr Wykeham acted
in a most egregious manner) before writing out a virtual general
knowledge quiz in just over an hour. "er indoors TM" is boiling up
dinner. It’s our wedding anniversary today… |
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5 October 2019
(Saturday) - Linton
I woke up feeling not too grim. Not wishing
to spoil anything I decided against sloshing salty water up my nose today.
That is guaranteed to make me feel ill. Over brekkie I saw I had a friend request on
Facebook from “Bonnie Decosta Hilda”. Judging by the photos on her
profile (in which she was engaged in some rather un-moral activities)
I decided to keep her at arm’s length. It never fails to amaze me that the
authorities at Facebook clearly make no attempt whatsoever to keep the
porn-merchants out. I then read something that made me think. A
friend had copied someone else’s status in which they were posting about a
motor-home having been stolen. Motor homes are *huge*. There is
supposedly number-plate recognition technology all over the place on our
roads. Is there *that* much of a market in breaking down motor-homes
for spare parts? I wouldn’t have thought that stealing a motor-home was a
practical proposition? Despite not feeling quite the full one
hundred per cent we got the dogs organised and drove out for an adventure. As
we drove we listened to the local radio; we’ve become quite fascinated with the
presenter who runs the show on a Saturday morning. Her continual hesitancy is
slowly getting better, but her chronic gasping for air is getting worse. This
morning was particularly amusing; following a big build-up to an interview
with a local author something went wrong. The author being interviewed could
be heard; the asthmatic interviewer could not. She wasn’t quiet; she was
utterly silent. From the author’s comments I could guess at what was being
asked, but it didn’t make for the sort of radio station that it might have
done. I can also guess at how long this state of
affairs will be allowed to carry on during prime-time local radio… We got to Linton where we met Karl, Tracey
and Charlotte. As well as me with my nose and Fudge with his kidneys, Karl
was suffering with a rather nasty bug too, but it was ages since we’d last
had a good walk, so we soldiered on. And the paths around Linton are rather
pretty. We’ve walked there before, and I expect we will walk there again. As
we walked we put the world to rights, and saw the deer, and some alpacas, and
got to spend a few minutes in a goat sanctuary. Our lunch stop was particularly special.
Earlier in the year I was given the opportunity to have a virtual geocache. I
used mine in the local park on the Hubert fountain. A fellow hunter of
Tupperware used hers at the church at Boughton Monchelsea (which is where
we were today). There is a bench overlooking a huge deer enclosure and it
has one of the best views to be had for miles around. We sat there for quite
some time; it is a rather special place to be. With walk walked we came back to The Bull at
Linton. The views from the beer garden over the Weald are to be seen to be
believed. I like our weekend walks; I like a pint with
friends too. And I
took a few photos whilst we were out as well. I must admit I had been in two minds about
going out today. Not having been out for a decent walk for ages meant I was
going stir-crazy. But only being a few days post-surgery meant that I was
probably not well enough to go for a decent walk. We walked five miles; our
walking time was actually under two and a half hours. I was *very*
glad to have gone out, but in retrospect I might just have overdone it a tad. I think it’s fair to say the dogs had
overdone it; as we ate a rather good fish and chips dinner "er
indoors TM" pointed out that the dogs were both too tired
to scrounge. I might fall asleep in front of the telly in
a little while… |
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6 October 2019
(Sunday) - Getting the Recipe Right
I woke at four o’clock, and had this idea
that I might slosh out my sinuses and go back to bed. I squirted salt water
up my nose and made myself feel incredibly ill. Feeling nauseous and having
given myself really bad toothache I lay in front of the telly for half an
hour until blood-stained salty snot stopped pouring out of my beak. I went back to bed just before five o’clock
and slept through until nine o’clock. Over a rather late brekkie I peered into the
Internet. I saw that “Access All Areas” had been playing locally last
night. I’d forgotten about that, but I don’t think I would have been well
enough to have gone anyway. Seeing how the forecast rain had fizzed out,
we took the dogs round the park for a little walk. The walk went well; no
fights or scraps is always appreciated. We came home to a cuppa and a cake,
and "er indoors TM" then drove off to Margate to
visit "Daddy’s Little Angel TM". I thought about
going, but instead stayed with the dogs. I sat myself on the sofa and sweated
with a pounding headache. I did a little more Wherigo programming to
take my mind off of feeling quite so grim, and by mid-day I was starting to
feel more human. I got myself a bag of crisps for lunch and scoffed it whilst
watching the last episode of “Pride and Prejudice”, then was struck
with divine inspiration. As all else had clearly failed, I re-read the
instructions for this salt-water nasal washing malarkey. It turned out I’d
been using far too much of stuff that I had made to be far too salty. No wonder I’d been making myself ill. I tried the required dose of one squirt of
twenty millilitres (*not* a pint) of stuff that was rather dilute (*not*
“stronger than the dead sea”) and it wasn’t entirely dreadful. I didn’t
spend the next hour in serious pain. With nothing else on the agenda I then sat on
the sofa, and wrote more Wherigo for most of the day. I got to the point that
all I needed was to get one photograph of a final location and so I took the
dogs out to get that photo. As we walked we had “an episode”. Treacle
stopped to have a dump. As I was about to clear it up some chap came up the
road with some rather odd-looking children. The more weird-looking child
tried to rudely barge through where we were standing. “Look out” I
said. “You are about to walk through a load of dog shit”. The chap (who
looked rather “special” himself) then got rather aggressive about why I
was being nasty to his child. Apparently it is every freak’s God-given right
to blunder wherever the voices in their heads should lead them. After a lot
of squabbling this chap eventually realised why I’d stopped the child, but he
did say that he thought I hadn’t been very clear in what I’d said, and that
I’d offended and upset his child. If any of my loyal readers know a clearer way
of warning about dog shit than saying “Look out! You are about to
walk through a load of dog shit”, please do let me know. We came home, I incorporated that photo into
the Wherigo, and then I drafted a rather bitter whinge to put onto the local
geocaching Facebook page. Basically someone had been having a dig (on-line)
at a series of geocaches a friend had hidden a little while ago. There seems
to be a growth industry in this, and (as is the case with most hobbies)
the less someone contributes to a hobby, the more critical they are of those
who get off their bums and do things. Someone had boiled my piss recently in
this way. The chap who rattled my cage has only ever hidden twenty-seven
caches in total. Only one of these has been hidden in the last seven years,
and only three of them are still active. Mind you he’s found over eleven
thousand of the things. He certainly gets a lot out without putting anything
at all back in, doesn’t he? In the past few weeks and months I’ve had my
failings listed and explained to me by several people of this ilk; those
who’ve found thousands of caches without putting out a single one. Bearing in mind how few film pots are getting
hidden under rocks these days you’d think those who get their thrills from
hunting them wouldn’t want to discourage others from hiding them, wouldn’t
you? In the end decided not to post the whinge (even
though part of me thought I should). Life is too short for squabbles. And in closing today was National
Grandparent’s Day… did anyone else notice that one? |
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7 October 2019
(Monday) - Still Feeling Rough
I woke after eight hours sleep. That’s not
too shabby at all. Over toast I peered into the Internet as I do
most mornings. Not much had changed overnight really which was probably for
the best. Bickering about Brexit continued which is getting rather tiresome.
Apparently the latest scare story is that a no-deal Brexit will give rise to
a lot
more dogging in Kent. But other than that, there wasn’t a lot of note.
There were a few people posting on Facebook this morning, but quite a bit of
what I read was frankly incomprehensible. Is it *really* unreasonable
to expect people to re-read what they’ve written to check that they aren’t
transmitting utter gibberish to the world? I saw an advert for the Kent geocaching meet
that is taking place this Saturday. Again it is in a place which isn’t open
to dogs. Do we walk the pups, then bring them home and drive forty minutes to
arrive late, or leave the dogs at home all day? With *so* many dog-friendly
venues available in the county I’m getting a tad paranoid. Am I being
deliberately excluded? But, on reflection, why is the meet taking place all
afternoon? Why not have the meet in the evening *after* everyone has
actually been out doing the hobby instead of during the time when people
would want to be doing it? Geocaching locally seems to be dividing into
three camps; those that do it, those that meet up to talk about it, and those
who post on-line about it but don’t actually do it. I got the leads on to the dogs, and we went
for a little walk. We did final testing of my new Wherigo, and hid the five
new geocaches. As we walked I had an email on my phone. A new Wherigo had
gone live only ten miles away. But on closer inspection it was yet another
re-hash of the generic one that everyone seems to copy. I don’t think that
there are many people who actually write their own ones like I do. I wish
more people would make the effort. As we walked we met a mother and toddler.
Toddler wanted to stroke the dogs, and as she fussed the hounds she told me
all about them. Apparently Fudge likes to go for walks, and Treacle likes to
do great big poos. I laughed, but the mother was mortified. By the time I got home I was really hot and
sweaty. I thought having two weeks sick leave was going to be a good skive; I
wasn’t planning on being ill for it. Feeling iffy, I sat down and did the admin
for my Wherigo project, then played Lego. A month ago I’d bought a Lego set on
eBay and thought that it might fill a morning when I was convalescent. I had
this idea that I might build it slowly, photograph each stage and make a
little video of it. As a first attempt at a stop-motion video it wasn’t too
bad I suppose. It took about an hour or so to make, and the video I made plays in less than a
minute. To be honest I could have made the car in a fraction of the time had
I not needed to keep popping to my Lego store to get spare parts. Am I being
unfair in expecting that when I buy a Lego set from eBay, it should be
complete? When the thing was finally together there was a *lot* of
bits left over, but there’s no point in chucking in all sorts of spares if
you don’t include the actual parts that you need. Just as I put the little video onto You-Tube
my phone went mad. The geo-feds had published the Wherigo project I’d been
working on for most of last week. That was quick of them. I got myself a sandwich and scoffed it whilst
watching new episodes of “Big Mouth”, then drove the dogs over to the
garage. My car is due for fixing tomorrow. We walked home past two of my
geocaches with which problems had been reported; I sorted the problems (one
way or another), and just as we were half-way home so the rain started.
We didn’t get *that* wet. Not having learned from this morning, I was
again incredibly hot and sweaty when we got home. But illness notwithstanding
I got the ironing board out and ironed whilst watching two episodes of “War
and Peace” which was available on Netflilx. I could remember enjoying it
when it was on telly three years ago, so I had had a look to see if it was on
Netflix. It came up as a “seventy-four percent match for War and Peace”.
So if “War and Peace” is a “seventy-four
percent match for War and Peace”, I’m intrigued as to what a one hundred
per cent match would be. "er indoors TM" came home and
boiled up some iffy chicken then went bowling. I watched another episode of “War
and Peace”. As I watched my phone beeped. Hunters of Tupperware had found
the Wherigos I’d hidden earlier today. I then had a look at the geo-map. This
Wherigo project that I finished today was supposed to have kept me occupied
for the entirety of my time off sick. I’ve still got a week to go. I wonder
if I’ve time to create another set of Wherigos somewhere? |
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8 October 2019
(Tuesday) - New Specs, Adventure Lab
I slept like a log again. Fudge came and sat
with me as I scoffed my toast this morning. He seemed particularly chirpy; I
wonder what brought that on? "er indoors TM" has
a theory that it is the new food he is on. We are trying him on all sorts of
specialist kidney-friendly food trying to find a brand he likes. Mind you
since this kidney problem has come to light he seems to be far less fussy
over what he eats. As I scoffed my brekkie I realised that I was
right to have taken my car to the garage yesterday afternoon for today’s
fixing; as I scoffed a notification appeared on one of the local Facebook
groups saying that a lorry had just wedged itself under the road bridge
between my house and the garage. That would have slowed me up. And then my phone beeped about a trivial
email despite my having turned off its Internet connection. Every night I
make sure the thing is disconnected from the Internet, and every night it
re-connects itself. I got the leads on to the dogs and we went
for our morning walk. We hadn’t walked for more than a few yards when we met
Dan-Dan and Bella. We chatted for a bit whilst Bella bossed the dogs about.
She might only be five years old, but I can see a future matriarch of our
family in the making. Dan-Dan and Bella caught the bus; we carried
on with our usual circuit of the park. We walked past a few people, but the
dogs didn’t bother anyone, and no one bothered us. It was a very peaceful
hour. It was perhaps dull, but that’ not always a bad thing. We came home; I settled the dogs, and went in
to town. As I walked up I met Bernie who was doing work experience with a
traffic warden. He seemed happy with the arrangement; I can’t say I was
impressed. I had a few minutes to spare, so I had a look
round Ashford to find places of note. Geocaching dot com has given me an
Adventure lab thingy and I needed to find five locations of interest on which
to base it. I found a statue in the memorial gardens, the site of the old
jail, the birthplace of Francis Epes (who?), the tank, and the
building with the fake first floor. And with my locations located I went on to
the opticians to get my new specs. They look just like the old ones; I doubt
anyone will be able to tell the difference. Things do look a tad sharper with
them on (I’m told my prescription had changed quite a bit over the last
two years). As I tried on the new specs and the nice lady fussed about, a
minor riot was kicking off at the counter. Some young mother had turned up
with what I could only describe as “the family from hell”. This young
mother could see nothing wrong with letting a swarm of toddlers run screaming
round the waiting area whilst she had her eyes tested, and she felt the shop
staff were being very unreasonable in insisting she sorted out her own child
care arrangements. I came home via the bakery where I got myself
a rather good steak and stilton slice. As I headed home a voice piped up “hello
Dave”. I smiled and said hello. We had a rather good chat about this and
that. I said what I’d been up to, whoever it was told me what he’d been up
to. I have no idea who it was, but clearly he knew me very well… Once home I made myself a cuppa, and as the
dogs snored I put together all the information I’d got earlier and made my Adventure Lab caches. It
took an hour or so. The finished result is OK I suppose. It is a tad “normal”
but there’s not really that much scope in there for knob jokes like there is
when making a Wherigo. Still, I’ve got it done now. I scoffed a sandwich, and fell asleep in
front of the telly. I slept for a couple of hours until "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" phoned. She’d just had trouble with a
customer in her shop. This customer had the hump because he was too stupid to
operate the door. Apparently opening the door was beyond this chap’s
abilities, and he thought that "Daddy’s Little Angel TM"
was being unfair to him to expect him to be able to operate such a
complicated device. I walked down the road to the doctors to
collect my sick note. I got to the surgery to find that collecting a sick
note was not the ordeal I had been expecting it to be. With sick note
collected I came home and sat in front of the telly (with my dogs) for
an hour or so. With so much I might be doing with this time off, I seem to be
spending a lot of it just sitting about feeling washed out. As I sat feeling sorry for myself the garage
phoned. They’d found something or other wrong with the car’s oil pump.
Hopefully it should be ready tomorrow. That suited me – I didn’t fancy going
to get it today. "er indoors TM" boiled up a
rather good bit of dinner; we scoffed it whilst watching “Bake-Off”. I
like that show… Maybe I might feel up to doing something
constructive tomorrow… |
|
9 October 2019
(Wednesday) - Blown a Fuse
I woke in the small hours and went to the loo
only to find the bathroom light switch was poggered. Apparently "er
indoors TM" told me all about it last night? I think I
must have been asleep. I watched an episode of “Big Mouth” as
I was awake. I went back to bed and slept through till eight o’clock. Over brekkie I checked my emails and saw that
I had received a reply from my query to geocaching dot com. Yesterday I
mentioned that I’d created an adventure Labs tour of Ashford. The whole idea
of the thing is that you tour round Ashford. Within hours of it going live,
some chap from Finland had hacked the system and logged it all. Bearing in
mind that he had been claiming to be finding physical geocaches in Finland at
the same time, there was some cheating going on. Cheating is rife in the
geocaching world, but it seemed to me that the people at geocaching dot com
should be made aware there was some problem with their system if someone
could claim to be in Ashford when they were actually a couple of thousand
miles away. The people at geocaching dot com said that
this chap had clearly hacked their system. But they had no idea how he’d done
it and had no way (or inclination) to remove his clearly fraudulent
logs. The people at the head office of geocaching
dot com boil my piss. They have such high-flying plans, and such poor
capability. What they have created is basic in the extreme, and you *really*
can’t play the game without recourse to third-party apps and software because
what they have simply isn’t fit for purpose. I sent out a couple of birthday messages via
Facebook, then read the latest doom and gloom about Brexit. Apparently the
nation is about to run
out of bog roll. I took the dogs out for their morning
constitutional. We went up through Bowen’s Field and into the park. As we
walked we met a geo-buddy who was full of praise for the Crystal Maze
Wherigos I’d been working on recently. I was pleased about that. A
little later we met another friend, and Fudge played with her dogs. It was a
shame that Treacle cowered in terror, but Fudge enjoyed himself. We came home and I was again sweating and
worn out. I was hoping for so much more from this being off work on sick
leave. I checked my Euro-millions ticket. Yesterday
I’d bought a ticket on the hopes of winning one hundred and sixty million
quid; this morning I saw I’d won nothing. I wasn’t expecting to win, but it
would have been nice. I hung out washing, then had a look at
another Wherigo project. Three years ago I wrote a rather involved Wherigo.
It has been played sixty times, but it is a *lot* of effort just to
get one smiley face. With a couple of days re-programming I might be able to
re-vamp it to take in half a dozen geocaches on the way. So with little else
to do I made a start. After a couple of hours I stopped for lunch.
And with lunch scoffed I thought I might fix the bathroom light switch. I got
rather cross as the dogs tried to help. Every time I tried to move I tripped
over a dog. I finally got everything sorted, I turned the mains power back on
and the lighting fuse blew. So I sorted it again (tripping over dogs at
every turn), and again the lighting fuse blew. I phoned for an electrician; he’s coming in
the morning. It was then when my phone rang. My car was
ready. I walked the dogs over to the garage. Apparently there was an oil leak
around the pressure sensor. That would explain why there was an oil pressure
fault. We came home; once home the dogs went to
sleep. I worked on my new Wherigo for a bit… but I must admit I’m not happy
with it. My plan is to replace several local caches with stages of a Wherigo
adventure but… a couple of the stages would involve replacing existing caches
in the Ashford Green Corridor. To replace them I shall need permission from
the council. They want me to fart around filling in all sorts of trivial
paperwork. I don’t like trivial paperwork; it encourages those who do. And
the other stages of the Wherigo would be *very* spaced apart as I
would be fitting them around existing geocaches. I might just relocate the
entire lot out into the countryside somewhere. With "er indoors TM"
off out I fed the dogs, then fed myself, and watched the last episode of “War
and Peace”. I can remember the show as being rather good when it came out
three years ago; I was rather disappointed by it. None of the characters were
really endearing, and not a lot really happened. I then watched more episodes of “Inside No
9” and dozed on and off. I might have an early night; I’m still
feeling a bit iffy. |
|
10 October 2019
(Thursday) - Lego, Sleeping
I had a little chuckle as I scoffed my toast this
morning. Someone had posted onto one of the work-related Facebook pages.
There was a photo with some work-related paperwork in which there was a silly
spelling mistake. No one seemed at all bothered that the word “thermometer”
had been spelled wrong, but there was quite a bit of consternation being
expressed about the font which was being used. It brought back memories of
hours spent in management meetings in which endless discussions really were
held about which font to use for the more meaningless of the paperwork. I don’t miss those days. I then saw a Facebook post from a friend
whose car had been clamped. He’d not paid his road tax. He was whinging that
“I thought it was automatically done as everything is online these days
and by direct debit”. An honest mistake, but I don’t think it is one that
I would make. I go through my bank account every month and account for every
single penny that comes in and goes out (I am incredibly mean like that).
It amazes me how many people don’t. The door bell rang; it was the electrician.
He came in, took off his shoes, and Treacle ran off with one of them.
Fortunately he laughed. In twenty minutes the chap had the bathroom light
fixed. I have no idea what I’d done wrong yesterday but having blown it up (twice)
I’m a great believer in paying someone who knows what they are doing. And you don’t realise just how much you use a
bathroom light until the thing is broken. With the electrician having done his thing I
then chased Fudge round the garden in an attempt to collect some of his pee.
The vet wanted some, and I got a decent amount from him. We then went for a little walk round the
park. As we walked we met one or two other dogs. Fudge played nicely with
them; Treacle played half-heartedly. But she had a go and didn’t run in
terror which was something of a result. With our walk walked I sat on the sofa and
sweated. I regularly walk seven or eight miles at the weekends; why is
walking round the park so arduous? I took Fudge to the vet. We delivered his pee
sample, and they took some more blood. That was a *very* quick way to
get rid of two hundred pounds. I could have had something of an adventure
today. I did have the opportunity for a day’s hunting Tupperware in
London. I’d thought about it, but I’m still not feeling on top form (not
that I ever do). Realistically by the time I’d got the train to London
I’d be ready to come home again. Six hours stomping round the capital
followed by a formal meet-up might have been a tad ambitious today. I did have a plan to walk the dogs out to the
countryside and get a few locations for geocaches for another Wherigo
project. But I’ve Wherigo-ed myself silly over the last few weeks. Instead I went up to the attic room and
played Lego for an hour or so before lunch. After lunch I watched a film on
Netflix. “Victoria and Abdul” was something we’d seen a lot of
advertising for when we were at Osbourne House a couple of years ago. The
film was OK I suppose. And then I slept for much of the afternoon
and evening. I woke a few times, but felt rather rough and went back to
sleep. I think I’ve had enough of feeling rough now… |
|
11 October 2019
(Friday) - Pouring Hard
Over brekkie I saw that Facebook was crawling
with people “doing a brother check in”; the idea being that you make a
great show of being available for others should they need someone. I did roll
my eyes somewhat and didn’t join the craze of copying and pasting. Saying
that you will be there for someone, and actually being there for someone are
two *very* different things. Some time ago I found that when I really
needed help it was the people that I barely knew that were there for me.
Friends of more than twenty years turned away and told me to go whistle. Some
of them of whom I had such high hopes then had the cheek to set up a Facebook
account, add me as a friend, then re-post this very meme. With toast scoffed I looked out to see it was
raining outside. I did have a plan to walk the dogs somewhere different this
morning, and bearing in mind the rain was forecast to last all day I decided
to go with my plan. We drove out to the back of beyond. Where I’d planned to
park the car was a swamp, and the footpath I had intended to take was
overgrown to the point of being totally impassable. I gave up on that idea,
and we drove down to an old stomping ground and had a walk round the back of
Park Farm. The paths were clear, and we didn’t meet anyone else at all. It
was a good walk. And I found some possible locations for a new Wherigo series
too. We came home; I settled the dogs. I drove down to Hastings to visit parents. I
would have liked to have gone earlier during my two weeks sick leave, but a
combination of feeling grim and not having a car had put paid to that. Mum and Dad were well. They were talking
about having a stair lift installed. Those things aren’t cheap, you know. I
wonder if we might look forward and consider moving to a bungalow before too
much longer? I came home, and after a bit of lunch I made
a start making a geo-series from the locations I hunted down this morning.
First of all I got in touch with the geo-feds to see if the locations were
viable. If they aren’t then there’s not a lot of point in continuing. I then put “Bottom” on Netflix and
spent the afternoon asleep in front of the telly until "er indoors TM"
came home, and then spent the evening awake in front of the telly. Today was dull… I think I must be on the mend
because I realised that today was dull. |
|
12 October 2019
(Saturday) - Geo Meet
Fudge sat with me as I scoffed my toast this morning. I must admit I
started the day in a bit of a sulk. On Wednesday I set up the Adventure Lab
caches I was lucky enough to be awarded. This morning over brekkie my finger
hovered over the “delete the lot” button. They’ve each been logged ten
times. Three by local cachers who’ve actually done the tour, and seven by
people who live thousands of miles away and haven’t logged a physical cache
within a thousand miles of these lab caches. It didn’t take more than thirty
seconds to see that these seven people have logged hundreds of these
adventure lab caches. Clearly these people have figured out how to set up a
VPN and are cheating. I’ve brought this up with the authorities at geocaching
dot com who have made it clear they condone this cheating, and that they
intend to do nothing about it. I mentioned about this on one of the geocaching Facebook groups last
night. A friend had commented. I shall let these Adventure Lab thingys stay
for now, but if this cheating continues I shall delete the lot… what’s the
point of setting up a tour of the town if people are just going to blag it
from home? I spent a little while working on a new
Wherigo project. Rather than totally re-writing one from scratch (which
would take an absolute age) I’m re-working an existing one. It will still
take a long time to do, but it keeps me occupied. Just moving the locations
from what I had originally to my new locations took over an hour to do. As I fiddled about so "er indoors TM"
tried to get the dogs to eat. Fudge scoffed his brekkie but Treacle was being
fussy. As Fudge has become more and more of a gannet (because of his
kidney issues) so Treacle has become more and more of a picky eater. I drove the dogs down to Park Farm; I’d
forgotten to get the GPS co ordinates of one of the locations I’d chosen. It
didn’t take long to get the number we needed. Whilst we were there we had a
little wander about. Back in the day, Park Farm was the posh part of town;
today the pavements were strewn with dog turds, and many of the houses had
harridans shrieking out of the windows. We came home, settled the dogs and drove out
to Cobtree Park where we met Karl and Tracey. Usually we’d have a decent walk
at the weekend, but today it was raining. Being Earthcache Day we thought
we’d do the geology homework exercise that was the Earthcache there, then go
on to the monthly meet-up of hunters of Tupperware. We met up at some odd statue and answered
various questions about it. I *think* I got them right, but I’m no
geologist. We then went on to the geo-meet-up. The Brewers Fayre at Leybourne
is always a popular venue for these meets. At the risk of sounding negative,
I wish it wasn’t. The bar staff are *incredibly* slow, and they insist
that the ale be served ice-cold. The more you try to tell them that it isn’t
supposed to be ice-cold, the more they insist it should be. But useless staff
notwithstanding we had a good meet-up. It’s always good to catch up with
friends. Three pints and two double ports later we
said our goodbyes. I slept much of the way back to Ashford where we stopped
off at Sainsbury’s. "er indoors TM" has been
reading up on what treats are good for dogs in renal failure. We got some
special flour with which we (she) can bake something or other, and we
got him some bananas and carrots too. We’ve got this plan to bake the
bananas, and the dogs seem to be quite keen on the raw carrots. "er indoors TM" has gone off to
film night. I shall sleep in front of the telly. |
|
13 October 2019
(Sunday) - Kimberley
What with "er
indoors TM" making off with much of the duvet and Treacle
spending the night stomping about, I didn’t sleep very well last night. Over brekkie I did
the geo-admin for yesterday’s Earthcache and meet-up as geocaching dot com’s
website was broken yesterday. For a hobby with is based on incredibly hi-tech
stuff, geocaching dot com is an *very* basic and clunky website. They
could really benefit from employing some tech people who actually have got a
clue. I then had a look at Facebook as I scoffed my toast. One of the fishing-related
Facebook groups I follow was singing the praise of the late Jack Hargreaves
who was one of the first celebrity anglers. My grandfather once spent eight
hours in a small boat off the coast of Hastings with him and was always very
vocal about the chap. Apparently if you wanted to get every angling line in
the boat into a knot, then my grandfather couldn’t recommend anyone better to
do the job. I thought about sharing my grandfather’s memories with the
Facebook group, but decided against it. These celebrities are always loved by
people who don’t actually know anything about them. With "er
indoors TM" and the dogs all snoring I carried on with my
latest Wherigo project. I wasn’t entirely sure if I would want to make
another one just yet, but at yesterday’s geo-meet I got talking with several
people who were full of praise for the three series I’ve done recently, so I
found myself somewhat re-enthused. I created spoiler
pictures and sets of co-ordinates to put (as pictures) into the new
Wherigo game. Those sixteen pictures took an hour to make. "er indoors TM" eventually got
up half an hour after she was supposed to go to Margate. She was whinging
that although the dogs liked the dog biscuits that she’d made last night,
she’d broken the soup-maker in the process. (Yes – I know… I didn’t like
to ask). As she got herself organized I walked the dogs round the park. As we walked
toward the park we met several groups of rather tearful children walking away
from the park. Sunday morning is the children’s fun run round the park. I say
“fun run” but I don’t think it is much fun for the children. Have you
ever seen the Sunday morning children’s fun run? Parents who love running
bully their children to run round the park. Some of the children like it.
Some don’t, and spend the entire time crying. We missed the run itself today but saw quite a few kiddies sobbing
about it on their way home. We came home, and I sat down and carried on writing Wherigo. The time
flies when I’m doing that. Seven hours passed in seemingly the blink of an
eye. As I programmed Wherigo I got a message on Facebook. I had a friend
request from “Kimberly”. I don’t think I know any “Kimberly”s,
but this one wanted to be *very* friendly. She asked if I want to be a
member of her WhatsApp sex group. Apparently there are many beautiful women
in this group who need sex. And (she claimed) I would not regret it.
Her sex group was free …because (as she says) “everything is free
without any money”. I turned down her kind request as I’m not up to it (I’m still off
work on sick leave). But if any of my loyal readers would like to “do
the dirty deed” with Kimberly I’ll pass on your details… Or I would have
done so if her Facebook account hadn’t been closed down within half an hour
of her making her offer. Pausing only briefly
to get dog food all over my pyjamas I fed the hounds their tea. Treacle is
being rather fussy these days, but Fudge scoffs up his special
kidney-friendly food. And then they both got dog treats. Having spent years
and small fortunes on dog treats that neither like, we discovered yesterday
that both dogs enjoy nothing better than crunching on a raw carrot. "er indoors TM" came home with
fish and chips. We scoffed them whilst watching “An Idiot Abroad”
which is rather entertaining. Have you seen it? If not, give it a go… |
|
14 October 2019 (Monday)
- Last Day Off Sick (for now...)
Treacle was restless last night, but I can’t
really complain. There is a world of difference between being woken a couple
of times and laying awake for hours. Over brekkie I peered into the Internet as I
do most mornings. There were one or two things worth seeing, a couple of jokes
that were vaguely amusing, and no end of bitterness about American and
Scottish politics. I can’t see why people who live in Kent seem to
concentrate so much on the politics of other countries whilst ignoring the
disasters running riot in their own country. I had an email from Amazon saying that based
on what I’d been looking at recently, I might want to buy a toy train set.
Amazon’s suggestions of what I might like are rather dubious. The other day I
typed “1970s Lego” into the Amazon search; maybe one in four of what
came up was actually 1970s Lego. I got the dogs’ collars and leads on. That
took some doing. For all that they get very excited about going out, they
flatly refuse to be still to get their collars on. What could be done in ten
seconds takes five minutes as both charge around barking. We drove out to Park Farm. Yesterday I amazed
myself in getting all the Wherigo programming done for my new Wherigo series.
This morning all that remained was final testing of the thing and putting out
the caches. The testing worked well. The caches got hidden as well as any
film pot can be stuffed under a rock. It was just a shame that the weather
was against us. Rain had been forecast, but I’d hoped we might be lucky. We weren’t. We were about a quarter of the way round when
the heavens opened. Because we’d started I decided to push on and finish, but
we were soaked through by the time we got back to the car. We came home, and whilst we were still wet we
went into the garden to feed the fish. Or that is I went into the garden to
feed the fish. Fudge went into the garden to shout at the fish, and Treacle
just followed because she does. We found the nice people from the water board
were in the garden sending submarines down the manhole to investigate next
door’s drains again. They seem to do that rather a lot. I then spent a surprisingly long time making
last minute tweaks to the Wherigo stuff before telling the geo-feds all about
it. I had a sandwich, and as I did the ironing I
watched a film on Netflix. “The Space
Between Us” was utter tripe. I’ve seen some bad films in the past,
but this was absolutely awful. An astronaut leaves Earth bound for Mars only
to find she is two months pregnant. Really? Phone calls from Earth to Mars
with no time delay at all. Really? It was *so* bad that I watched the
lot just to see what would come next. If ever you get the chance to watch it,
don’t bother. I then spent ten minutes rummaging in my Lego
spares boxes. At the weekend I’d seen a 1970s Lego car and caravan sell for
eighteen pounds. I thought that was a tad steep; after a few minutes digging
about in the spares box I made a virtually identical car and caravan. Flushed with success I then watched the
Christmas episode of “Trailer Park Boys”. That was rather good. "er indoors TM" came home,
boiled up some dinner and went bowling. I watched the first part of a
documentary about Sir Ernest Shackleton; the bloke was rather amazing, wasn’t
he? I should really have an early night; I’m back
to work tomorrow… |
|
15 October 2019
(Tuesday) - Back to Work
After two weeks sleeping well, I set an
alarm, and was rather restless for most of the night. It must be having the
alarm set that stops me sleeping. Over brekkie I watched another episode of “Inside
No 9” then had a quick look at the Internet (as I do every morning)
to see if I’d missed much overnight. "Daddy’s Little Angel TM"
had posted something
rather special on Facebook. For all that she is a rather noisy and
somewhat opinionated thirty-something, she’ll always be my little angel. When
I finished blubbing about what she’d posted I made a comment and she
immediately phoned me (at six o’clock this morning). She was rather
over-excited about new-age hippy numerology nonsense. I didn’t have the heart
to argue with her. I also saw one or two adverts for “No Bra
Day Chat Group” on some of the work-related Facebook groups I follow. As
you could probably imagine, “No Bra Day Chat Group” wasn’t really the
sort of thing you’d want to see on social media. I reported it to the
Facebook Feds for “nudity” and “sexual content”, but I would
bet good money that the authorities at Facebook won’t have any problems with
it. In the past they’ve told me that child pornography and animal abuse don’t
breach their “community standards” so I imagine that a “No Bra Day
Chat Group” would be very tame in their world. As I drove to work so the pundits on
the radio were talking about how today was going to be a dry day,
but there might be one or two isolated showers. I think one of those isolated
showers followed me from Ashford all the way to Pembury. I've missed my drive to work as it is my big
chance to listen to the radio and catch up with the news. Today the news was
about how the NHS is struggling like it has (supposedly) never
struggled before. Ironically this was followed by an interview with this
week's Foreign Secretary (!) who was banging on about how much the
Americans spend on defence, and how the UK should spend a similar proportion
of its wealth on killing people. I would have thought that maybe the UK might
take a step back from killing people and spend a little more money on making
people better (but what do I know?) It strikes me that what with the
nation’s education and welfare and health all clearly underfunded, do we as a
nation *really* need to go round the world getting involved in other
people's wars. I then laughed out loud at the patent
nonsense that was presented in the "Thought for the Day"
section. Some vicar was talking absolute rubbish. He'd married a Jewish girl
and they were raising their children to be joint Christian and Jewish. He
claimed the children were happy with this arrangement, and the fact that the
two religions spout mutually contradictory gibberish would seem to be no
barrier to believing any of it. Perhaps the vicar didn’t actually
realise this? Many proponents of religions don’t really know very much about
that which they profess to believe. As I drove my phone beeped. The Wherigo
project that I'd finished yesterday had received the "thumbs-up"
from the geo-feds and had gone live. I was pleased about that. I stopped off at Tesco for some shopping.
Again I didn't get asked for my Clubcard. I never do; I don't think the
assistants ask men about those things. I thought about getting some cakes to
take into work; it was as well that I hadn't as someone else had already done
so. I got to work and did my bit. I tend not to
mention work that much, but I will say that whilst I hadn't been actively
looking forward to going back to work, I certainly wasn't dreading it like I
was after I had my nose done last time. I'm so much happier working where I
am now as opposed to where I used to be a few years ago. As I left work my phone beeped. A friend was
struggling with my latest Wherigo. Had he found a glitch in t that I’d
missed? It was with a sense of relief that I got home just as he messaged me
that it had all worked fine in the end. I took the dogs round the road. Bake-Off is
on telly soon. It is only a shame that "er indoors TM"
has gone swimming with Cheryl. She’s left instructions for how to cook
dinner, but I feel the responsibility might be too much for me… |
|
16 October 2019
(Wednesday) - Rostered Day Off
Having had two weeks off sick I went to work yesterday,
and then had a rostered day off today. Not that I’m complaining… I had something of a lie-in this morning (as
did the dogs). Over brekkie I had a look at the Internet. There was a
minor row kicking off on one of the national Facebook geocaching groups that
I follow. This one has some rather nasty arguments for the simple reason that
if all the contributors live hundreds of miles apart then they can be as
nasty as they like to each other, secure in the knowledge that they will
never have the embarrassment of actually having to face each other. As
always, something trivial generated quite a bit of animosity. My piss also boiled when I looked at one of
the dog-related Facebook pages I follow. Someone was asking for prayers for
their dog. The hound had eaten a load of chocolate and had made himself very
ill, and the dog’s family were asking for prayers for the dog. How does this work? I *really* don’t understand this? You
pray to whatever deity to ask it to fix your dog when (presumably)
this same deity could have stopped the dog getting ill in the first place? The plan for today had been to go fishing but
bearing in mind the weather forecast "My Boy TM"
had gone in to work instead. And bearing in mind that the weather forecast
had been right and it was pouring hard I didn’t fancy taking the dogs out to
get soaked. However they felt differently about the matter, and pestered me
to go out. It was clear that they wouldn’t settle, so we went round the park.
It wasn’t *that* wet, but it was wet enough to deter other dog walkers
and so we had a relatively undisturbed walk. We came home and I towelled off the dogs.
They have very different fur; Fudge gets soaked right through; Treacle’s fur
seems to be water repellent. The rain is *on* her fur as opposed to soaked
right through like Fudge’s. With walk walked I went through my Lego
spares looking for clear pieces; I had this idea to make a lake from the blue
and colourless clear bits. That kept me occupied for a while. As I sorted,
"Daddy’s Little Angel TM" phoned. She seems to be
obsessed with some new-age numerology rubbish. Apparently it is patently
obvious that she is going to become a multi-millionaire from the number
eleven(!) I got myself a sandwich and watched a film on
Netflix. “In
The Tall Grass” was better than quite a few films I’ve watched on
Netflix recently, but being a horror film a lot of the action was set in
night time in the dark. Consequently you couldn’t see what was going on. Once
it had finished I looked it up on Wikipedia to get an explanation of what had
happened. I got a summary of the plot, but there was no explanation. I
suppose it wasn’t a bad film really, but I am still thinking “WTF was that
all about?” I then played Lego for an hour of so. Some
time ago I was given a Lego beach house kit and today I finally got round to
making it. The plan was to then make a Lego lake or sea to go with it (with
all those clear bits I sorted earlier), but making the house took a
little longer than I was expecting. I shall make that next time. "er indoors TM" came home and
boiled up some pizza for dinner. As we scoffed it we watched “Plebs”
and the last part of “An Idiot Abroad”. That was made seven years ago
– how did we miss that first time round? That pizza has given me guts ache… |
|
17 October 2019
(Thursday) - Late Shift
Over brekkie I was rather short with my
father in law. He was re-posting some utter rubbish about 5G phone signals
killing trees. Even though this has
been disproved (and he’s been sent the evidence) he still persists
in spreading this misinformation. Why do people do this? There is so much on
the Internet which is patently untrue, and which only takes a few seconds to
disprove, but still people persist in spreading these lies. But take a moment to look at the
link he shared. It reads “No need to read it all,…. No need to go to
town with too much data/detail either”. Really ?! Doesn’t this sum up
what’s wrng with the Internet? I also saw on Facebook that this same father
in law has bought my niece a car for her birthday. He can be a very generous
man… with some of his grandchildren.… When my piss cooled I then had a little look
on eBay to confirm some suspicions I formed last night. If you type “old
Lego” into the eBay search bar you find thousands of Lego sets up for
sale. If you type in “vintage Lego”, “1960s Lego” or “1970s
Lego” you get substantially the same things coming up in the search
results, only cheaper. I took the dogs out for a little walk. As we
went up the road we met Dan-Dan and Bella at the bus stop. Bella fussed
Fudge; Treacle hid from her. Dan-Dan told me they’d been waiting an hour for
the bus, and then three arrived at once. We walked on round the park. We managed to
avoid most of the other dog walkers as we went, but we did meet OrangeHead in
the co-op field. As we walked I was rather worried about Fudge; he seemed to
be walking very awkwardly. But once we got to the co-op field he took off
like a bullet from a gun and chased Treacle round the field a few times. For
all that he is not a well dog, perhaps I fuss too much? With a little time to spare, I wrote up some work-related C.P.D. As I
typed, the door bell rang. It was the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Looking back at
our conversation, I think it fair to say that I had them on the ropes. The
nice lady had to admit that she did spend a *lot* of her time making
excuses for her God. And she had no explanation why we should pray to God in
the crappier times rather than expecting God not to allow the crap to happen
in the first place. She looked visibly shaken when I told her that I was once
a Steward in the Methodist church (I was!) and that *if* there
is a God, demonstrably it is at best disinterested in humanity, and probably
rather cruel. I told her that perhaps it was here who might like to reflect
on what I’d said, and I closed the door. As I drove to work so the sun came out.
Women's Hour was just finishing on the radio, and was followed by "From
Our Own Correspondent" which featured snippets about current affairs
in Canada, Ethiopia and Hungary. It was rather interesting in an obscure sort
of way. With a few minutes spare I thought I might
hunt out a geocache which had gone live (a few weeks ago) which wasn't *that*
far off of my way to Pembury. I got to where the I could park the car. I
walked to within a yard of the cache, and the heavens opened. I had a quick
look, but I didn't want to spend the day in soaking wet clothes so I
abandoned and ran back to the car. I can hunt out that one some other
time. By the time I'd driven two miles I found I was again in glorious
sunshine. I got to work and went to the canteen.
Chicken curry followed by sponge and custard set me up for the day. I spent
much of a rather busy late shift wondering if I really want to carry on
actually doing this job. At the moment my long-term plan is to carry on doing
the same job for the next four and a third years at which point I become
eligible to get some of my pension. I then intend to go part time. However at
all times I’m in a rather stressful environment. If I make a mistake I really
can kill someone, and (as I know from bitter experience) if I make a
mistake I will very much be on my own. Yesterday I had a message from two friends
who were trying to head-hunt me to be a lab tech in a school. For all that
the hours are shorter and I’d get the school holidays, weekends and nights
off, the money isn’t all that. To be honest I didn’t really fancy it. Mind you I also saw an advert for a job which
pays more than I get; being a train conductor. Doesn’t it sum up what is
wrong with our world when a train conductor with a few weeks training gets
paid far more than a registered biomedical scientist with six years’ formal
training, very active ongoing continual training, and decades of experience? |
|
18 October 2019
(Friday) Chicken & Banana Dog Biscuits
I didn’t have a good night; I spent much of
it hanging on the duvet with a grip of iron to make sure I got some of it. Over brekkie I looked at the Internet and
rolled my eyes when I saw the latest squabble kicking off on one of the
national geocaching Facebook pages. Someone was banging on about how they go
geocaching without a phone or a GPS. They rely on paper maps, struggle a lot,
and made the implication that this made them better than everyone else, and
anyone who uses some sort of gadget is cheating. This post was followed by a
flurry of other equally idiotic postings about how there is far more skill
involved in finding the right rock under which a film pot is stashed when you
can only be accurate to within fifty yards. Some people really do live for the argument. As the rain had stopped I took the dogs out
for a walk. As we walked up the road I saw one of the cub’s mothers cycling
past. I said hello; she blanked me as she always does. She is an odd woman.
Apparently her husband made it crystal clear that he never wanted children,
and that if they had children it would up to her to see to them. She had two
boys. Both were in the cubs when I was a leader there. The oldest was a very
stupid child, and really would stand for hours just staring into space. The
youngest was rather nasty and delighted in the misfortunes of others. His
signature move was to disrupt any activity he could by sprinting (in a
straight line) as far away as he could thereby making leaders abandon
what was going on to go and retrieve him. I used to hate it whenever they
came on days out anywhere as mother would never collect them at the agreed
time. She would always be at least an hour late; the excuse being that father
was busy doing his own thing (usually playing golf) and he felt it was
very unfair of us not to fit in with his schedule. But now they’ve left the cubs and I’m no
longer a leader, I’m of no use to her, and she has ne need to be civil to me. We walked round the park. Although the rain
had stopped the grass was very wet. The dog with the water-repellent fur (Treacle)
kept to the tarmac paths. The dog that gets soaked to the skin (Fudge)
was wading shoulder-deep in the long grass. We came home. I sat on the sofa and wrote up more CPD. As I wrote
so the dogs barked at everything that came past the house in the first five
minutes before both settling and going to sleep. As I drove to work so the sun was glorious
bearing in mind the torrential rain earlier. I drove out to the back of
beyond to hunt out that geocache which I gave up on yesterday. It wasn't a
difficult find, but I think I was right to have given up. Getting the paper log
soggy isn't a clever thing to do. With my geo-nonsense done I headed towards
Pembury. As I drove "Daddy’s Little Angel TM"
phoned. She's got a new regular customer. Some tramp comes into her shop
several times a day for a cup of the coffee she sells. She sells cups of
the stuff for a quid each, and this vagrant is having several every day. I
wish I could afford that. I drove on to work, and after a rather good
plate of fish and chips I got with another busy late shift. And I learned
something; we had a case of weak D. Weak D is... let's just say that blood
groups aren't as simple as you might think they are. I came home to find "er indoors TM"
had the hump as her new food mixer was broken when she unpacked it. But
knacked food mixers notwithstanding she was boiling up some home made dog
biscuits. Banana and chicken flavour. I tried one – I wasn’t convinced. But
our resident wolf-pack love them… |
|
19 October 2019
(Saturday) - Playing James Bond
I got up after a better night. Mind you I got
up to find the toilet was making an odd noise. It does that from time to
time, and in its place I would probably do the same. The cistern hadn’t filled because the water
was going straight down the pan. I fiddled with the thing and got it working,
but I wonder how long it will last? Over brekkie I had a look at the Internet.
Some chap was posting on one of the local fishing-related Facebook pages
bemoaning the Carp Society. Apparently there is a “Carp Society” and
once a year it has a big get-together. One of the highlights is when those
who’ve caught the biggest fish tell everyone else about what they caught. But
it would seem that this year’s show isn’t going to be very well supported;
mainly because no one likes listening to pompous windbags banging on about
how good they are at fishing when the truth of the matter is that they
weren’t any better; they were just luckier. As I scoffed, someone who lives on Park Farm
was posting on the local geocaching pages asking what Wherigo was all about.
I hope I explained it properly; for a high-tech hobby, Wherigo takes some
explaining. In the meantime the dogs played tug o’ war
with an old sock. Mind you Treacle cheated; with both dogs pulling the sock
with their teeth, she put her paw on Fudge’s nose and pushed. It was good to see them playing; it was only
when "er indoors TM" posted a video (on
Facebook) last night of them playing that I realised that Fudge hasn’t
played with Treacle for months. Was it because the insidious onset of the
kidney problem was making him feel ill? I’m taking this playing as a sign
that the new diet and medicines are working. "er indoors TM" popped up to
town. Her intention was to shove the broken food mixer up the bum of the
shopkeeper from whom she’s bought it. I wrote up a little more CPD whilst the
dogs played tug o’ war with a pair of "er indoors TM"’s
less racy undercrackers. I managed ten minutes CPD before losing
interest, then had a little root on-line. A couple of weeks ago I built a Lego Cadillac,
Someone had posted a piccie on-line of the same car; only blue. I had a plan
I might make one out of my spares, but I wasn’t sure how many bits I’d need
before I went rummaging in my spares box. Mind you, five minutes on
Google came up with
this website. Now I know what to rummage for, and what to order from
eBay. I ordered quite a bit… We drove out to Park Farm. There had been
talk of going out for a walk near Sevenoaks, or on the Romney Marsh. But with
the weather being as iffy as it has been we thought staying relatively close
to shelter wouldn’t be a bad idea. We arrived early, and as we waited for
everyone to arrive we listened to local radio, This has become something of a
standing joke for us; the Saturday morning local radio is -um-
-yeah- (gasps for air) something that -um- has
to be heard – yeah- to be (gasps for air) to be – um-
believed. We met Karl, Tracey and Charlotte at
Sheepfold Lane and played the James Bond Wherigo that I created last week. We
had a rather good walk, and as we walked Tracey worked out how to get street
maps onto the Wherigo app. I’ve been creating Wherigos for six years and for
all of that time I thought that this would be an amazing thing to have. I
learned something today. With Wherigo Wherigo-ed we adjourned to the
Singleton Barn for a spot of lunch. A few beers and some beef sandwiches went
down very well. As we put the world to rights so the heavens opened; we were
right to have stayed local today. "er indoors TM" dropped me and
the dogs at home; she’d had a message that new food mixers had arrived in
Argos. We came in and put the kettle on; "er indoors TM"
arrived soon after with another food mixer that didn’t work. The plan had been to go to Hastings bonfire
parade tonight, but with the dodgy weather forecast and having an early start
tomorrow, we thought better of it. I would have liked to have gone to the
bonfire parade, but it makes for a late night… |
|
20 October 2019
(Sunday) - A House Guest
I didn't sleep well; I saw every hour of the night
and it was such a shame that the alarm went off when I was actually fast
asleep. I came downstairs and said hello to Fudge. Seeing I was up he took
the opportunity to ask to go out in to the garden to play silly beggars. He
didn't actually "do" anything that you might think he would;
he just ran round the garden for a bit before going back to his basket and
going to sleep. I watched an episode of "Inside No. 9"
then set off. I walked down a very dark road. And Bond Road
was even darker. It amazes me that there isn't any public outcry on any of
the local Facebook groups about the utterly inadequate street lighting we
have. As I drove to work there was some nature
program being broadcast on the radio. Stone Curlews sounded to be rather
amazing; odd what you can find interesting at six o'clock on a Sunday
morning. With curlews done. they then talked about the
news. Over a million people marched in London yesterday protesting against
Brexit. Parliament apparently has thwarted the Prime Minister's scheme and he
has had to write to the European Union asking for yet another extension to
the Brexit deadline. The word is that he's sent two letters. One which
is asking for a Brexit extension (because he is legally obliged to do so)
which he hasn't signed, and another letter saying he thinks an extension is a
bad thing which he *has* signed. This whole Brexit thing is getting on
everyone's wick now. If we as a nation aren't going to revisit the
entire concept of Brexit properly (and with no lies from either side), I
can't help but feel that it's now time to either just do Brexit right now or
give up with it. Mind you, bearing in mind that what is being
offered is in no way remotely similar to that for which everyone voted, is
a second referendum such a silly idea? I got to work; I thought about having a
cooked breakfast. I decided against it. The last one I had at work wasn't
that good. I got on with a rather busy morning, saw something
rather interesting down the microscope, and came home again. Once home I walked the hounds round the park.
We had a relatively good walk; we chased a squirrel up a tree. We came home to find Pogo back in residence. "er
indoors TM" had been over to Margate. "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" needs a little break, and so we’ve got
Pogo for a while. I can’t say I’m pleased about the arrangement, but there it
is. It’s not as though I had any say in the matter… To be fair to him, he’s a
loveable dog… he’s just rather high-spirited. I shall persevere with his
training… "er indoors TM" went bowling.
With three dogs snoring I had a pomegranate. Three dogs soon woke up when
there was food about; they didn’t get any. As I scoffed pomegranate I watched “Living with
Yourself”; a new thing on Netflix. It’s got here who used to be in “Trollied”,
but apart from her in the nip in the shower, so far not a lot has happened. I wonder how well Pogo will sleep tonight…
|
|
21 October 2019
(Monday) - Late Shift
The night went better than it might have done
with three dogs. I was expecting it to be somewhat akin to the first night of
cub camp, but everyone slept reasonably well. Even if (like Treacle)
Pogo was sucking the duvet. I got up, had my morning ablutions, and as I
sat down for brekkie, so Fudge came down and sat with me. Treacle and Pogo
followed hot on his heels, and Fudge gave them a look of utter contempt from
the height of the sofa. As I scoffed my toast I found that I had a
friend request on Facebook this morning. Someone claiming to be called “Jennifer”
suggested I might like to join her WhatsApp group which (so she claimed)
had lots of women in it who wanted me to “do the dirty deed” with
them. At the risk of disappointing Jennifer’s friends, I turned down the
offer, and reported her to the Facebook feds. Mind you, for all the stuff and nonsense, I
do like Facebook. It is a wonderful way to keep in touch with people and see
what they have been up to. This morning I saw several photos posted by an old
schoolfriend of mine. Over the weekend he had taken part in the National Town
Criers Championships. He did well; he came fourth. But I rolled my eyes in
despair when I realised that this doesn’t actually mean he’s the fourth best
in the country. He’s the fourth best in the Loyal Company of Town
Criers, This bunch should certainly not be confused with the Ancient and Honourable Guild of Town
Criers who are a completely different load of town criers. It never fails to amaze me how people can
squabble and fall out over the most trivial of things. Keeping snakes, flying
kites, fishing, stargazing have all been good for an argument in the past.
Now it seems that town criers have argued enough to set up two rival
organisations. You couldn’t make this up, could you? With rain forecast well in to the afternoon I
decided to walk the dogs straight after brekkie (when we usually go out).
But three very wet dogs wouldn’t be fun, so I insisted that they wore coats.
Fudge was *not* impressed at having to wear a coat, and immediately
went into “statue mode”; when he has a coat put on, he refuses to move
at all. But he eventually realised that he had no say in the matter. I took the dogs up to the co-op field, round
it and back home. I wasn’t going to go further today. When we had Pogo last
time he could be problematical with other dogs. We were making improvement
with him when he went back to "Daddy’s Little Angel TM"
but that was two months ago, and I wasn’t going to be messed around in the
rain today. Walking three dogs on my own is hard work; let alone when one is
trying to pick fights with everyone and everything and in the rain too. The walk went as well as could be expected.
We didn’t meet anyone else (human or canine) which was probably for
the best. We came home; getting coats off without
getting water everywhere was a mission in itself. I then put a load of
washing in to scrub and fed the fish (with canine assistance). I then spent a few minutes reviewing some
e-books on Amazon. Perhaps I was a tad harsh? The etiquette of posting book
reviews certainly seems to be to only say good things because bad reviews are
really damaging to an author but… The first book in the series can be seen
by clicking here. They make a rather good story, but each book can be
read in an hour. Why is the story broken up into six short books if not in an
attempt to maximise profit? I then wrote up a little more CPD, and then
my phone beeped. I had an email. Because I am a member of the Lego VIP club (anyone
can be – it’s free) I’ve been invited to go to a pop-up Lego store in
London where I can buy a limited edition collectable for only one hundred and
ten quid. I have no idea what this limited edition collectable thing is; that
remains a secret. So… by the time I’ve paid for a train ticket to get there
and had a bite to eat, I have the chance to shell out the best part of a
hundred and fifty quid with no idea what I’m buying. Much as I like Lego, I declined their kind
offer. With the washing machine having finished I
hung out the washing on my clothes horse, and set off for work. As I drove to work, Radio Four was
broadcasting the reading of a book. It was about some poor Irish girl trying
to escape from the religious superstitions of her family. It was rather
engaging and I found myself rather caught up in it. It was then followed by a
rather interesting article bemoaning the lack of numeracy that so many people
seem to have. Apparently whilst most people with a credit card can do
arithmetic, most have no idea of how to apply arithmetic. For
example imagine that you spent twenty pounds on a pair of trousers
costing nine pounds ninety nine pence and bought a bar of chocolate too, and
received eight pounds fifty in your change. How much did that chocolate bar
cost? The claim was made that most of the credit card
wielding population wouldn't know how to work it out. That's rather frightening if true. I took a rather circuitous route to work via
Benenden where I hunted out a roadside geocache. I found the thing, emptied
out all the rain water that was in it, and put it back upside down
so it wouldn't fill with water again. I then went on to work. With "er indoors TM"
off on a beano this evening (and therefore not on cookhouse duty) I
thought I'd better get dinner from the works canteen. I went for the fish
pie. It was incredibly good, but where I was expecting to find fish, there
was egg. How odd. I did my bit on a rather busy late shift,
then came home. As I drove through a rather dark Goudhurst I saw
something which made me sit up and take notice. There is a house there
with its Christmas decorations already up. I could see the fairy lights on
the Christmas Tree. And it is still October... |
|
22 October 2019
(Tuesday) - Rostered Day Off
I came home from work last night feeling
washed out. I had an early night and slept like a log. I think I’m still not
completely recovered from that nasal re-bore of three weeks ago. I got up, made myself some toast and had a look
at Facebook. Someone was selling a pair of Wilko headphones for three quid.
Three quid… is it worth the aggro of creating the listing and dealing with
all the idiot emails that such a listing will generate? And who’d go to go
out of their way up to Repton Park to collect them when you can get brand new
ones in the town centre for not much more? Mind you there seems to be a
growth industry in using the Facebook selling sites rather than a dustbin
these days. I suppose if you can sell a dustbin’s worth of rubbish (rather
than chucking it), it’s all profit, isn’t it? I also read that there was a cow loose on the
road a mile south from home… Not being at work today I drove to Margate. I
arrived a little early so I went for a walk up the sea front. I discovered
that Margate has got a
tidal swimming pool. I also discovered a film pot under a rock not far
from it. I then spent an hour or so with the most
recent fruit of my loins. She filled me in with all the gossip. Like most
gossip there was more rumour than truth, but that’s the good thing about
gossip. For example it is common knowledge that her local milkman is getting
his milk from the cash and carry rather than from the dairy from which he
picks up his milk float every day. The fact that he is selling the dairy’s
brand of milk rather than the cash and carry’s doesn’t seem to abate these
rumours in the slightest. As I came home there was an article on the
radio which made me sit up and take notice. There was an interview with a
forensic scientist. She’d provided evidence for a court case which proved the
guilt of the accused beyond any shadow of doubt. There was no way that the
accused could possibly be innocent. However the jury found the chap “not
guilty” because the child he’s supposedly (actually) raped didn’t
cry that much when being questioned in court and the jury had taken a dislike
to her. British justice, eh? I got home; I cleared up the humungous turd
that Pogo had laid. I l know it was Pogo as the turd was bigger than Fudge or
Treacle. We then did our trick of “Boot Dogs”
and all drove out to Ripper’s Wood. One of my geocaches there had gone
missing and needed replacing, and Ripper’s Wood has the advantage that you
can walk right round without meeting anyone else. Thinking about it, I’ve
never met anyone at all when walking there. Perhaps that’s a tad antisocial
of me, but sometimes I like just being “me and my dogs (plus one)”. With dogs walked I had a spot of lunch. I
watched ten minutes of the third episode of “Living With Yourself” on
Netflix, then turned it off. I realised that I didn’t relate to any of the
characters at all. A sign of good drama is how you react to the characters.
You might like them. You might loathe them. But you react to them. There
wasn’t a single character in this show who had prompted any reaction from me
at all. Instead I watched the 2004 film version of “Vanity
Fair” on Netflix. To be honest that wasn’t *that* good either, but
it was something to watch whilst I did the ironing. No day not at work is
complete without doing the ironing. Bake Off’s on telly soon… I think I might
crack open a bottle of plonk… |
|
23 October 2019
(Wednesday) - Doughnuts
I slept like a log. Over brekkie I watched an
episode of “Inside No 9” which was rather good. I then sparked up my
lap-top for my usual root around the Internet. Nothing at all (for once)
had happened on Facebook, so I checked my emails. I had quite a few emails
about people having found geocaches that I’d hidden. And that’s when my piss boiled… A group of people had come to Ashford over
the last weekend specifically to do my new Wherigos. I won’t go into
excruciating details, but I just wish that when people find a film pot under
a rock and write their “found it”
log to tell the world about it, they might re-read what they’ve written. And
then ask themselves if what they have written actually conveys their meaning?
Specifically will it leave people feeling more or less likely to be bothered
to put out more caches? (bearing in mind that they clearly like going to
find caches and that they are pissing off one of a very small group of people
who has taken the trouble to put out a cache …) As I drove to work the pundits on the radio
were again talking rubbish about Brexit. The latest seems to be that having
had his plans for a fast-track Brexit thwarted, the Prime Minister now wants
a general election. However no one else seems keen on the idea, presumably
because whoever wins will have to sort out Brexit which is demonstrably
un-sortable. There was lots of talk about Brexit on this
morning’s radio - the only bit of the morning's radio which wasn't was the
"Thought for the Day" bit which was all about some vicar or
other taking on a refugee child. The refugee child just wanted to play. and
the vicar was banging on about how he was thanking God for the child's
playful and happy nature. He somehow drew a veil over the reason why this
child was a refugee, and his God had nothing to do with the death of the
child's family I got rather fed up listening to the drivel
on the radio this morning. Being at Maidstone today meant I'd gone up the
motorway. I should have left home earlier; the roads were incredibly busy.
The journey which sometimes takes thirty-five minutes took over an hour and a
half this morning. But I got to work, and there were doughnuts
for tea time. As I worked I had something of a shock;
the elastic in my undercrackers went. there's nothing quite like a busy day
at work with your pants slopping all over the place. I came home to find "er indoors TM"
getting the leads and illuminous collars on to the dogs. We took them round
the park (in the dark) for a walk. As we walked we found someone’s
train pass laying in a puddle. I picked it up and posted on four local
Facebook groups to tell the world that I had it if the owner would like to
get in touch to arrange collection. I wonder if they will… |
|
24 October 2019
(Thursday) - Fudge Brownies
I didn't feel that good when I got up this
morning. I considered phoning in sick. Instead I made up some salt solution,
syringed out my sinuses, and managed to blast out some rather huge lumps of
scabby yukky gunge. That perked me up somewhat, as well it
might. I suppose it is only three weeks since my operation... I'm
supposed to do this up till Christmas. As I scoffed granola and watched an
episode of "Inside No 9" so Fudge woke, got up from his
basket and stood by the living room door. Rather than sitting with me,
he wanted to go sleep on the bed upstairs. As I got up to see to him, so "er
indoors TM" came downstairs and took him upstairs. I then had my usual rummage round the
Internet; I had been hoping that overnight someone might have claimed
the train pass card that we found yesterday evening. No one had. So much for
the power of the Internet... I did have a flurry of emails. Four different
groups of people had been out doing my newest Wherigos yesterday. Unlike the
people who visited last weekend, yesterday's visitors were somewhat
more complementary in what they had written. I do like reading a "Found
it" long on a cache of mine that leaves me thinking "that's
nice" rather than one which has me feeling "sorry I bothered". Sometimes I can be a rather sensitive little
petal... I set off to Pembury on a rather murky
morning. As I drove to work the pundits on the radio were talking about
how our old friend science has shown that people with arthritis suffer more pain on wet days
than on dry days. Is this news? My gran complained that bad weather gave her
gyp fifty years ago. There was also talk of a possible upcoming
general election. They wheeled on the chairman of the Conservative party onto
the radio. He wouldn't deny that his bunch's election propaganda actually
contains lies about the Labour party. You would have thought that Mr Corbyn
had already dug a big enough hole in which to comprehensively
and permanently bury the Labour party without anyone needing
to make up lies about them, wouldn't you? I made better time to Pembury today that I
did to Maidstone yesterday. Mainly because I didn't have to contend
with the mayhem on the motorway. And now that the mayhem is at its peak
it would seem that the entire concept of a "smart motorway" is
to be shelved. About time too... Such a shame that so much
money had to be wasted on it though... I got to work; I did my bit. Over dinner and
tea breaks I finished my latest e-book. The "A World Torn Down"
series of e-books was something of a disappointment. The story is set in
Humberside after a plague has wiped out most of the human race.
But despite being entitled "A World Torn Down", most (if
not all) of the action takes place within a very small area
around the Humber bridge (from the author's website, this would seem
to be where she lives) and this is a shame. The story would
have benefited from the scope that travelling a post apocalyptic
UK might have offered. The story followed the adventures of various
characters (some believable, some not so). For some odd reason the
most interesting characters were dropped half-way through, and the
promised sequel threatens to pick up some of the duller ones. I had a serious issue with one of the major
protagonists who might be best described as a "psycho-bitch-from-hell".
Marching round shooting all and sundry with a crossbow and selling children
into slavery, why were none of the other characters prepared to
actually kill her (which I would certainly have done)? And
if no one is going to do for "psycho-bitch-from-hell",
it is rather implausible that it would never occur to anyone to
relocate well away from "psycho-bitch-from-hell". If
there is some bitch-queen marching round with a crossbow shooting people for
sport, would *you* live within walking distance of her for three years
(bearing in mind that most of humanity has been wiped out and you
can go wherever you like?) I didn't really like this story. What really
hacked me off was that the story was broken up into six books. Was this
to extort more money from the readers? Together
they made one book of seven hundred pages, but
having to make six purchases it cost eleven quid. I've just taken pot luck and bought
an e-book that came up on my Facebook feed. Five hundred pages for one
pound ninety-nine pence. As I finished that rather turgid book I
scoffed a chocolate brownie. A colleague had made cake. I like cake. The
rest of the day was rather dull after cake… |
|
25 October 2019
(Friday) - No Cake Today
Again I didn't feel that good when I got up
this morning. But five o'clock is early; who does feel in top form
then? I again considered phoning in sick, but instead made up
some salt solution, syringed out my sinuses, and managed to blast
out more rather enormous lumps of scabby yukky gunge. Better out than in, eh? Over brekkie I watched another episode
of "Inside No 9" then had a look at Facebook. There are
several people that I keep as "Facebook Friends" purely to
watch their antics. One of these (who is currently trying to sell her
house for half a million pounds and regularly pleads poverty) was
transmitting to the world from yet another foreign holiday. This woman makes
me laugh. Having posted all over Facebook how others are paying her
daughter's five-thousand-pounds-per-term school fees because she is so
poor, she never seems short of money for a holiday. I also had an email to say that a bracelet
I'd bought for "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" had been
posted and should arrive today. It’s some new-age hippy thing; hopefully
she’ll like it. Before I set off to work I spent a
couple of seconds dragging the recycling bin onto the pavement. Everyone else
up our road had moved their bins to the edge of their front gardens last
night, and the jobsworths from the bin company had then moved them all to
strategically block the pavement. However we'd not moved our bin forward the
requisite six feet to the front of our garden, and so the people who move the
bins had left it. I moved our bin onto the pavement since the bin
men are demonstrably incapable of walking the six feet from pavement to
bin. I've complained to the council about this
before, but the bloke at the council says we have to "appease the
contractors". If you want a laugh it is fun to complain
about the bin men on the local Facebook pages. One of the bin men has
appointed himself the social media spokesman for the local bin men, and he
gets rather vocal if anyone says anything about the bin collection which
isn’t absolutely glowing with praise. I'm sure his manager has no idea of
this, or he would surely have been sacked for some of the things he posts. As I drove to work (quite a bit earlier
than usual) the pundits on the radio were playing extracts from "Yesterday
in Parliament". What a load of hot air. I've been saying for years that I don't
believe in democracy, and our parliamentary democracy is a shambles. These
so-called "debates"... No matter what they are "debating",
whoever is talking merely repeats the tired old arguments that their
particular party has been repeating for decades. And the winner of the "debate"
is whichever party gets the most people to show up for the vote at the end.
No one comes up with any sensibly reasoned arguments that aren't party-politically
motivated, and no one ever says to anyone else "that's a good point -
I hadn't thought of that". We as a nation *really* need a new
political process. Ironically there was then talk about the
Prime Minister’s plans for a December general election. I really did laugh
out loud as I drove. One of the problems of having a general election in
December (according to the experts in holding elections) is that
the nation has over the last few years replaced pretty much all the street
lighting with these L.E.D. lights which are widely accepted (by pretty
much everyone except those who are responsible for street lighting so it
would seem…) not to actually illuminate anything. And apparently a
December election would mean the expense of illuminating the polling stations
and the streets round them. I might have mentioned these L.E.D. lights
before? I got to work for the early shift, and did my
bit. I spent much of the morning looking out of the window at a rather bright
morning. I was rather jealous that a group of friends had gone off for a walk
today. I thought it would have been good to have gone along until I saw
the wind and rain that came an hour or so later. With work done I came home. I found that
"Daddy’s Little Angel TM"’s bracelet had indeed
arrived. I can’t work out why a bracelet only three inches in diameter had to
come in an envelope far too big for the letter box though. I also had a
parcel containing four Lego wheels (each only two inches in diameter) which
was even bigger than the envelope the bracelet came in. I took the dogs for a little walk up to the
co-op field. We had a good stomp about up there. Fudge enjoyed playing ”chase”,
but he is obviously getting more and more awkward as he moves "er indoors TM" should be home
soon… I wonder what’s for tea…. |
|
26 October 2019
(Saturday) - Late Shift
I suppose it would have been a good night had
I been getting up at five o’clock. But chucking Treacle out of the bed
because she was scratching my bum just made space for Pogo to come and
scratch my bum. And then Fudge made himself comfortable by curling the duvet
round himself and off of me. When I did finally nod off my brother then sent
a flurry of text messages about the family Christmas party. It’s been planned
for a day when I’m working. Again. I got up and over brekkie had a look at the
Internet. A friend was posting on the local Facebook geocaching page
suggesting he might organise weekly walks. I used to do that for a few years. I gave up
partly because my work pattern changed, and partly because of the negativity
I got. Leaving aside the rather rude way the walks were dismissed by many,
what got me was how a surprising number of people would send me messages
saying that they would only come if such-and-such wasn’t invited. And
because I was trying to be inclusive and open to all, those who didn’t like such-and-such
would take against me. Toward the end I found that trying to
organise a walk was a good way to fall out with people… I also had an email saying about how people
have added “favourite points” to some of my geocaches. (I think
I’ve had that every day for the last week). For every ten film pots you
find stashed under a rock you get a “favourite point” which you can
allocate to a cache that you think is in some way outstanding. Over the few
months I’ve hidden quite a few geocaches and seem to have accrued quite a few
of these “favourite points”. I don’t think it is because what I’ve
hidden is particularly good; it is just that very few other people are hiding
anything. But better a “favourite point” than
being told where I’ve gone wrong by those who think they know better. We took the dogs out for a little walk round
the co-op field. We had a rather good walk without meeting (let
alone upsetting) any other dog owners. To be honest the walk would
have gone better had a cat not made a point of sitting on a fence and
deliberately provoking the dogs, but such is life. As we walked, so the vet phoned. There
was a problem with the insurance claim I'd submitted over two weeks ago and
it had been sent back to the vet. Could I pop in and sign the
new claim form? It was a shame that the insurance people
couldn't have mentioned this some time ago.. Working as I do in an acute
hospital environment I'm used to things being dealt with right away. I have
trouble understanding why a problem would take two weeks to come to
light. Am I being cynical in thinking that if these insurance people find
enough petty reasons to send back the paperwork, then people give up
bothering to claim? It's not as though the claim is for a *lot* of money on
its own, but in a month which featured a car service, a car breakdown, a
broken boiler timer, far too much spent on Lego, and new specs, as well
as Fudge being ill, I rather want that bit of cash. So with our walk over I popped to the vets to
sign another bit of paper. I did chuckle when I got there. Our vet is in
the back of "Pets at Home". The nice people at "Pets
at Home" were having a "Meet the Retired Greyhounds Day".
There were six retired greyhounds sitting in the front of "Pets at
Home" with which every dog going to and from the vet tried to pick a
fight. You would have thought that someone might
have thought this one through, wouldn't you? From the vets I drove on to Tunbridge Wells
and the late shift. As I drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing
some MPs about what a hard life they have. I don't think any of
the MPs persuaded anyone that their life is anywhere near as arduous as they
would have us believe. Everyone thinks they are hard done by at work, and MPs
live in a glass house and should know better than to throw stones. This was followed up with an interview with
an Icelandic journalist who says that the Icelandic Prime Minister's phone
number is in the telephone directory, and if you want to talk to her, you can
just phone her up (and apparently people do). There was then an article about the collapse
of the payday lender QuikQuid. Payday loans are coming under pressure from
the government as they just encourage people to get into debt. The entire
concept of a payday loan is a bit dodgy, isn't it? Because you don't earn
enough, should you borrow money? I can't help but think
that the fact of the matter is that if you don't earn enough money you
should spend less and be more frugal with that which you do have. Harsh?
Perhaps. But that was the line I took when my finances collapsed a few
years ago. A business model which is based on persuading people to
live beyond their means is no way forward, is it? If you need to
borrow money for a one-off expense, go to the bank. If you need to
borrow money every month, then this needs to be sorted. It ain't rocket
science, is it? I got to work and went to the canteen. There
was a rather good steak and dumplings thingy on offer today. It was not too
shabby at all. I then got on with the late shift. As I'd parked my
car so there had been a few spots of rain. As I worked I looked out at the
rain (which was rather heavy by then). I don't mind working at the
weekends *that* much if I'm not missing anything. And I think it fair
to say that I would not have missed much today. But today was dull… |
|
27 October 2019
(Sunday) - Pegwell Bay, Mowing the Lawn
The clocks went
back last night and so I had the chance of an extra hour in my pit… I
got up at half past seven as I was wide awake anyway. As I scoffed
toast, Fudge sat with me. I had my usual morning rummage round Facebook. Not
much had happened overnight. To be honest it looked as though when it rained
yesterday everyone had a rummage in their shed to see what they might find to
sell. This morning my Facebook feed was heaving with silly little things for
sale; all under five pounds in price and not one worth having. I had a flurry of
emails this morning. There were fifteen new geocaches within an hour’s drive
of home. Mind you some of these made me laugh. Some of them were extending an
existing series. For some reason the geo-feds have allowed the creation of
geocaches #12 - #16 of a series whilst having disabled #1 of the same series
for want of maintenance. With a little time
on my hands this morning I went out into the garden and mowed the lawn.
Well…I say “mowed the lawn”; “scalped it” would be a more
accurate description. The lawn hasn’t been mowed for some time, and if it
didn’t get done today I don’t know when I would have a chance. It was probably
too wet to be mowed, but it had to be done. As I mowed, in my mind I could
hear the rants of our ex-neighbour (the looney one) who used to get
incredibly angry when I mowed the lawn when it was wet. There were several
times when he formally ordered me to stop mowing the lawn because it was too
wet. With a face as red as beetroot he would scream at me that it was he who
has to look at that lawn. I wonder whatever
happened to him? The police refuse to tell me. I suspect he’s in a secure
mental hospital somewhere. We then took the
dogs round the park for a little walk. We had a couple of minor episodes with
other dogs as we went, but nothing serious. Dogs do that, and anyone who
understands dogs realises that. As we walked we met OrangeHead with her
posse, and exchanged pleasantries. There were no episodes with Orangehead;
Pogo seems to respect her, as well he might. Once home the dogs
soon settled, and leaving them asleep we drove out to Margate to visit "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" and "Stormageddon - Bringer of
Destruction TM". Littlun then took me all round their
shop showing me the cake and sweets and toys. We then took "Stormageddon -
Bringer of Destruction TM" out to lunch. I suggested
McDonalds, and he readily agreed. For all that I have something of a
reputation of being a McDonalds aficionado, I don’t think I’ve had McLunch
for months. I had some swiss cheese burger thingy which was rather tasty (if
rather tiny). S.B.O.D. had a Happy Meal with chicken McNuggets and chips
and a strawberry milkshake. He didn’t really eat much of it, and seemed to
get more enjoyment from putting its constituent parts into the correct
recycling bins. But we did have fun with the McHallowe’en app. We got some
photos from that. From McDonalds we went on to the Viking
Longship at Pegwell Bay. We thought he might be interested in it, and we
thought we might do the virtual geocache that was there. He wasn’t, we did. We delivered "Stormageddon - Bringer of
Destruction TM" home, and came home ourselves. Having
scalped the lawn earlier I then scalped it a second time. I was planning on a
third mowing, but by the time I’d mowed and raked up, my back was aching
somewhat. Instead I tidied up and had a look at the Munzee app. "er indoors TM" had taken the dogs for a walk and had said she was going to
put out some munzees. She had. I got
First to Find on one of them. But only one; I left the rest for others. Have you ever
played Munzee? If not, I wouldn’t bother. It’s a bit like looking for film
pots under rocks, but with no film pots and no rocks. I then spent a
little while looking at the household accounts. As always I accounted for
every penny I spent in the last month, and found that I’m not poor, just
nowhere near as rich as I would like to be. Mind you I will share one little
snippet of my regular monthly expenses… Each month I spend
eight pounds ninety-nine pence on Netflix and thirteen pounds twenty pence on
the TV licence (BBC). One I can cancel at any time. One I am legally
obliged to pay all the time I have a television… "er indoors TM" boiled up a rather good bit of dinner. We scoffed it whilst
watching “Tattoo Fixers” and whilst trying to work out which dog has
got the stinkiest bum. I think they eat all sorts of foul stuff when we are
out. Must keep an eye on that… |
|
28 October 2019
(Monday) - Seeing Double
I slept well; over
brekkie I watched the last episode of “Inside No 9” which featured
Nigel Planer. I’ve not seen him in much on telly recently. I then had a look
at Facebook. Those who would have me believe they are far poorer that the
bulk of humanity were transmitting to the world from their current holiday
which is in in the Sierra Nevada. And there was a petty squabble
kicking off on one of the Lego Facebook groups I follow. Having asked how to
clean up Lego bricks *without* using hydrogen peroxide, the world and
his wife was posting the best concentrations for using hydrogen peroxide. I had a few
emails; people have been adding “favourite points” to my latest
Wherigos (which is rather good). And I had an email from LinkedIn.
There is a chap on my LinkedIn list… forty years ago we were best friends.
When I last saw him (in 1995) he treated me like I was the sh*t on his
shoe. He’s now the Managing Director and Global Head of Cloud Business Office at some
company or other, and was advertising for a “Senior Enterprise Security
Architect”. What does that even mean? Perhaps if I knew that he might
still talk to me. Mind you, looking at his LinkedIn profile
he would seem to have dyed his hair a *very* unconvincing colour… Rather than going
to work today, I walked down the road to the doctor’s. As I drove home from
work on Saturday night my eyes weren’t right. Yesterday as "er indoors TM" drove us to Margate, for each car
that I could see in the opposite carriageway, I I could see an identical one
coming head-on toward us. I could see two of each bridge that we drive under
too. This double vision came and went yesterday, but this morning my vision
was decidedly blurry. If I close one eye, then the vision in the other eye is
fine (bearing in mind my right eye had never worked properly). But the
two don’t seem to be working together as they used to. The doc thinks I’ve
possibly somehow strained a muscle, and has put me in for an urgent referral
to the hospital. Because I’m struggling to see a computer screen (typing
this I’ve cranked the font size right up) the doc has signed me off work
until next week. I came home, and
took the dogs round the park. As we walked my vision wasn’t that bad, In fact
it was much the same as it usually is. We had a good walk, and the dogs
completely ignored the looney who was singing to the fountain. With walk walked I
thought I might spend a few minutes rummaging in my Lego spares. A little
while ago I bought a red Lego Cadillac from eBay, and saw that someone had
made a blue version from their spares box. I wondered if I might do the same,
so I had a rummage. It looked like I had the right bits, and I and came up
with a fair approximation of what I was after. As I was playing
Lego so Treacle came and sat with me. Good girl! Ironically my eyes
were fine when playing Lego but they played up quite a bit when I tried to
watch telly as I scoffed some lunch. My eyes improved so that I could mow the
lawn, but again were problematical as I tried to watch “Daybreak”;
the latest thing on Netflix. "er indoors TM" came home, boiled up a rather good
bit of dinner, then went bowling. I ironed a few shirts without any problems,
then tried to watch telly and gave myself a headache… |
|
29 October 2019
(Tuesday) - Twisted Specs
I slept well. I
went to the loo at three o’clock and when I headed back to bed so Fudge came
out of his basket and stood at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at me as
he does when he wants to be carried up to sleep on the bed. I went to pick
him up and he ran back to his basket and settled himself. When I got to the
top of the stairs I turned round and saw him standing at the bottom of the
stairs looking rather plaintive. So I went to fetch him, and he ran back to
his basket. We carried on like
this for ten minutes before I gave up and went back to bed. Over brekkie I had
a one-eyed look at the Internet. Yesterday I’d posted a photo on Facebook
saying why I was feeling sorry for myself. I was rather flattered to see it
had attracted quite a bit of “likes” and comments. Someone with whom
I used to work was bemoaning how fat she thought she was. Perhaps she *does*
think she’s fat, but she isn’t. As a life-long porker I get rather wound up
by people who are (at best) a few pounds overweight who grumble about
how obese they are. Unless I am on a diet which leaves me constantly hungry,
I am always a few stones overweight. I took the dogs
for a walk. Eyesight which was decidedly iffy indoors was much better
outside. As we walked I had the Munzee app open on my phone (I could see
it with one eye closed). On Sunday "er indoors TM" had put some Munzees along our usual
dog walk. At the time I got “First to Munz” on one and had left the
rest for others. Seeing how a couple of days had passed and no one else had
been near, I claimed “First to Munz” on a few more. As we walked we
had an “episode”. We met another dog walker in the Chinese garden who
went hysterical because my dogs wanted to play. She couldn’t understand why
my dogs couldn’t completely ignore her dog like people ignore each other…
doesn’t that totally sum up all that is wrong in our world? Having settled the
dogs I walked up to the town. Bearing in mind my iffy vision I’d made an
appointment at the optician. I’d picked up new glasses a couple of weeks ago
and (to be honest) hadn’t been happy with them. At the time I’d been
told that my prescription had changed quite a lot and I’d thought that it was
the strain of new glasses that was making me unhappy with the things. The moment I sat
down, the optician commented that my glasses weren’t sitting right. She took
them and mauled them about so that they fitted my head better. Thinking back,
when I picked them up I’d just put them on, said they seemed OK, and off I
went. The trouble is
that my ears aren’t level. One is a good half an inch higher than the other.
Consequently my glasses weren’t sitting right; one eye had been looking
through the distance vision bit and the other had been looking through the
varifocal bit. And so all had gone to cock. Hopefully after a day or so
things should go back to how they once were. I came home via a
couple more of "er indoors TM"’s Munzees. The
GPS was somewhat out on them. Massively out, but that’s the Munzee app for
you. The GPS has never been good. Just as I got home
my phone rang. It was the hospital trying to arrange a date for my nasal
surgery (yes – that operation I had four weeks ago). This is the
second call I’ve had since the operation trying to arrange it. I explained that
I’d had the surgery and tried to suggest to the woman on the phone that there
was something wrong with their system which allows this to happen. To say
that she was utterly disinterested would be an understatement. She didn’t
actually say the words “I couldn’t give a shit” but that was certainly
her sentiment. So I put in a formal complaint. As I said in my email “The ENT people are doing an excellent job but are being sadly let down
by the team which arranges their schedule”. I scoffed a
sandwich, then got on with the ironing. As I ironing I watched a film.
Because I’d watched “Pride and Prejudice”, Netflix had suggested that
I might like the film “Lady Chatterley’s Lover”. I thought it was
going to be a period costume drama. It wasn’t. It was a tad
saucy. So I watched more
“Daybreak” instead. "er indoors TM" is boiling up
dinner… the bottle of plonk has been uncorked… it’s the “Bake-Off”
final soon… I hope I will be able to see it… |
|
30 October 2019
(Wednesday) - Munzing
As I scoffed my
brekkie I peered into the Internet. A family member was again posting rubbish
on Facebook. Like so many other people he believes everything he reads on the
Internet. Those who know nothing at all would seem to have taken against the
5G phone network because they simply don’t understand it and believe each
other’s misconceptions. They then repost (on social media) the
inaccuracies they have read, and so the it becomes common knowledge that “eating
turnips gives you piles”. Why don’t more
people take thirty seconds to type whatever fallacious claim they have just
read into Google and find out the truth of the matter for themselves? There was also
quite a bit of talk on the Facebook page for the Old Boys of the school I
used to attend. This year sees the four hundredth anniversary of the school’s
founding, and those who haven’t been back to the place in forty years are up
in arms about how little is being done to commemorate the event. There was
talk about a reunion… I probably wouldn’t go. Realistically anyone from my
schooldays who wants to get in touch with me has already done so via Facebook. I took the dogs
for a walk round the park. As we walked through Bowen’s Field Pogo tried to
pick a fight with another dog. I wish I had some idea what provokes this. He
sometimes just goes completely mental for no reason that I can work out. As we walked we
met OrangeHead and her posse. They told me how they too had met the “special”
lady yesterday who couldn’t understand why dogs need to sniff and bark at
each other. I also found the
Munzee that eluded me yesterday We came home; I
settled the dogs then went up to the opticians. When I was there yesterday
I’d meant to pick up a copy of my prescription. I’d forgotten so I went back
today. I got what I needed; as I walked back I took a little detour down past
Kent Wool Growers; they’d had a fire yesterday and I thought I’d have a
nosey. There wasn’t much
to see. As I walked I
deployed a Munzee. On 5 July 2015 I was given a little packet of Munzee
stickers which has been in my wallet ever since. I thought I might put one
out today. And I did. I wonder how long it will be before anyone goes hunting
for it? I had a spot of
lunch, and then I struggled to watch the telly. Bearing in mind that I can
see things at a distance far better than close up I took the dogs out again.
We had a rather longer walk this afternoon. It would have gone better had
some epically fat bloke not tried to latch on to us. The chap never said a
word, but it was plain he was following us. I couldn’t work out if he wanted
his huge dog to play with my three, or to fight them. I put the leads on to
my dogs, marched off, and the fat bloke simply couldn’t keep up. If he’d just
said “hello” it would have made all the difference, but he was
decidedly creepy. Whilst we were out
I deployed a virtual munzee. Go me!! We came home. I
watched the last two episodes of “Daybreak”. It was a good show. I
just need to re-watch it whilst being awake for most of the episodes now. I then
binge-watched the entire first season of “The End of
the Fxxxing World” because the second season starts next week and I
could remember it being a good show. It was a good
show; I’d just confused it with “You, Me and
the Apocalypse”. I just wish the
telly would stop moving in and out of focus… |
|
31 October 2019
(Thursday) - Hallowe'en
I didn’t have a
good night; when the dogs are restless, no one sleeps well. Once I’d hosed out
my sinuses (yuk!) I sat down with my lap-top. After a couple of
minutes I realised that I wasn’t peering at it with one eye shut. It was
still rather blurry using two eyes, but I could see it with two eyes which is
an improvement on the last few days. As I peered into
the Internet Pogo scrounged shamelessly. I wish he wouldn’t, but he is such a
greedy dog. As always I found
something to boil my piss on Facebook. A few people who spend all year long
pretending to be new-age witches were now taking umbrage at children enjoying
Hallowe’en. I did have a load
of “found it” logs on my geocaches in Kings Wood. Someone had been out
two days ago and had found the lot. They were gushing with praise for what I
had done. But (yet again) here was someone who clearly gets a lot from
geocaching whilst contributing nothing. Over a thousand finds and not a single
hide. I took the dogs
for a walk. As we went I amused myself by reading the signs attached to lamp
posts (mainly because I could!) We had a good
walk; no episodes at all. With walk walked I
fiddled about with Lego for a bit. A little while ago I made up the Lego
beach house; today I made a beach to go with it. I then popped down
the road. For a change I thought I might get lunch from the bakery. I’d not
been there for a while, and now I remember why. It attracts the “special”
element. When I arrived there were a bunch in yellow hi-vis jackets trying to
work out what cake they wanted. The nice lady behind the counter was naming
every cake they had, and it was only when the cake was named that the “special”
people knew whether they liked it or not. Am I being harsh in wondering that
they might have had more of an idea had they not been stinking of “herbal
cigarettes”? I got myself a ham
roll, and as I scoffed it I watched “Snatch” on Netflix. An excellent film – I’ve
seen it so many times. Can you believe it is nearly twenty years old? When it finished I
didn’t want to disturb the herd of sleeping dogs which had made themselves
comfortable on me, so I watched another film that Netflix had recommended for
me. “The Guvnors” was utter tripe. It was during this that
Fudge was sick. He’s been farting quite impressively all afternoon, and I
think he might have eaten something disgusting up the park this morning.
Still… better out than in, eh? I activated the
pumpkin candle light thingy and put it in the window to let the local
littluns know that trick or treaters were welcome. After two hours the
doorbell rang. Over the evening
we had half a dozen groups of trick-or-treaters. The kids seemed to be
enjoying themselves… I rather hoped we would have had more… |
