I woke to
find I was cuddling Pogo as though he was a teddy bear. He seemed to like it.
Silly pup.
I got up and
went to move my car. The trouble with getting home after ten o’clock is that
usually the only places left for parking are those in which you can only leave
the car until eight o’clock.
With car
moved I sparked up my lap-top and peered into cyber-space. Not much had
happened really. Those few people posting odd memes were mostly re-posting what
others had already put up. And with no emails of note I got dressed and (pausing
only briefly for Fudge to be sick) took the dogs for an early walk.
We went round
the park. Pogo was again far better than I had expected. Regular “sit”
to watch other dogs go past seems to be working. Fudge however disgraced
himself twice by trying to pork passing hounds. As we walked we met
OrangeHead’s Chunky Little Friend. There would seem to have been a falling-out
there.
We also saw
loads of children who were on their way to school. School must start earlier
these days. It never fails to amaze me how many mothers take children to school
with the children on bikes and scooters but the mothers themselves walking.
Obviously the bikes and scooters go faster than walking pace, so the mothers
are constantly shrieking for the children to slow down, and the children are
constantly falling off and crashing into fences, parked cars and passers-by
because it’s not possible for a five-year-old to cycle at walking pace.
I did tell a
couple of children off for screaming at my dogs. As I said to the mothers, if
they are frightened of the dog, then they should ignore the dog. Screaming at
the dog is going to provoke a reaction. It was rather clear that this had never
occurred to the mothers.
We came home.
The dogs had there usual mad sprint up the garden. Fudge leads the mad sprint;
if he doesn’t, Pogo and Treacle go to fetch him. We fed the fish, and I wasn’t
long before the dogs were snoring.
I went to
Sainsbury's to get some petrol. I arrived to find my way blocked by some old
idiot who was making a great show of being unable to work the petrol pump. As
my piss boiled I watched the fool making a complete twit of himself until the
chap at the adjacent pump drove away. I was then able to get to the pump in
front of the idiot where I filled my car with petrol.
Just as I was
about to go to the kiosk to pay, the idiot loudly announced that he was ready
to go and that I was in his way. I didn't actually say anything out loud, but I
nearly did. He didn't have to wait *too* long for me.
And again no
one asked if I had a Nectar card.
Yesterday I
spotted some geocaches which were up for resuscitation. Once I'd got petrol I
drove out to Hawkhurst to see if I might find some of them. These ones looked
to be ideal candidates for a successful resuscitation. One (which hadn't
been found for over a year) couldn't be found until you solved a field
puzzle which was inside a second geocache (which also hadn't been found for
over a year). That second one hadn't been found for over a year for the
simple reason that it was a mile's walk from the nearest road, and there were
no other geocaches near it. I parked up as close as I could, put on my wellies,
and had a rather good walk across the fields and woods to where my GPS said to
look. The clue said to look deep into a hole in a tree. At the designated spot
was a tree with a great big hole in it. I looked- I saw what I sought, Happy
dance.
I got the
information I needed to solve the field puzzle, and soon had the GPS co-ordinates for my second target. It
was the best part of a mile away, but I had this idea that rather than
following the footpaths I might follow
the farm tracks to save some time.
In retrospect
I should have known better. This is an idea I've had many times over the years,
and it has *never* worked. Today was no exception. Eventually I
scrambled over some barbed wire and waded through a quagmire to eventually find
myself half a mile south of where I wanted to be. After a *lot* of
effort I finally got on to the public footpath that I needed. It went through the gardens of a very posh
house; the owners of which clearly wished it didn't. As I walked up the path,
two Labradors flew out of the house and started barking at me. I could see I
was being watched by some crusty old woman nearer the house, so I knelt down
and made a very noisy fuss of the dogs (which they loved). I then called
out to the woman to tell her what lovely dogs she had, and that they would make
sure I stayed on the path. She had a face like a smacked arse as I walked up the
public footpath and straight past her with the dogs following me (with
something of a look of adoration in their eyes).
Leaving the
dogs and the old bat behind I soon found my second geo-target, and then
followed the path back to my car.
As I sat in
the back of my car pulling off my wellies I watched a car go past. It had a
bike on a rack on its boot. The bike fell off just as the car came past me. It
fell on the road and was immediately flattened by the car coming behind it.
On the one
hand the bike should have been secured properly. On the other hand, the person
coming up behind shouldn't have been so close to the car in front. As an
independent witness I could see that there was blame on both sides, but as
voices rose and tempers flares, I realised that it wasn't my circus; it wasn't
my monkeys. And I was running out of time and had to get to work.
I got to work
to find the car park was full. I drove about and found the hospital has got an
underground car park. I never knew that. And the exit from the car park into
the main hospital takes you right past the canteen. I had some rather good
stuffed mushrooms and chocolate pudding with custard.
The rest of the day was
something of an anticlimax...
