Last night Jose gave me the makings of a geocache. And then he made them into a geocache. I had just the place in mind to hide it, and had all good intentions of leaving for work early to get the thing in place this morning. What with one thing and another I just couldn't get myself organised, and was five minutes late leaving the house. Which was a pain. I shall have to hide that one next week now.
And it was cold this morning. It's still August, but I took a fleece as I left the house. It was chilly. Chilly, but a very bright morning. Bearing in mind how overcast yesterday was at times when I was out and about, I was rather resentful about how bright the day was today when I couldn't be out doing my own thing. Just lately I have developed a tendency to mope when I'm not doing something good. I need to realise that my idea of "doing something good" is most people's idea of "doing something frankly marvellous". I do lead a busy and active life, and so (in contrast) dull times seem oh-so-dull. Sometimes I really do need to take the rough to realise how good the smooth is. I was reminded of this in conversation with a colleague today. When chatting about plans for the weekend I outlined what I had planned. Quite a bit, actually. He had absolutely nothing on his agenda, other than "trying to find something to do". I need to do something about this tendency for moping that I've acquired. My life *is* something frankly marvellous when compared to many people's lives.
As well as moping, I sometimes find myself bedevilled by boiling piss. That most volatile of fluids boiled again today when I heard that the fire at my place of work wasn't the only hospital fire in the county this week. There have been two hospital fires; both of which seem to have been set deliberately as a cover for the perpetrators to then rob the cash from the tills in the staff canteen.
And on reflection I can't help but wonder what drives someone to set light to a hospital in order to stage a heist?
And so, after a day’s work, I skived off a little early to do something frankly marvellous. The astro club’s summer social. We had a great time; a really good meeting, a good talk, a good chat with all sorts of people, and I even got to meet an old mate I’d not seen for a year. Good times…
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I got up promptly and after a quick bit of brekkie set off to what I thought was a posh part of town to deliver catalogues to the nobs. The area was nowhere near as posh as I thought. Posh houses have letterboxes rather than holes in the door. One supercilious twonk followed me down the street to return his catalogue. I didn't let him see that his attitude boiled my piss; clearly no one has told him that (like everyone else) his shit stinks.
I came home and did two hours ironing. As I ironed I exchanged texts with Steve and Lisa who were worrying about the torrential rain. I wasn't worried; it was a glorious day. It was only when Steve texted to say he had abandoned his plans and was sitting outside my house in his car that I properly looked outside. the sky was clear, the sun was shining, the rain was like a biblical flood. Steve came in, we had coffee, and as the rain slacked off to a medium monsoon we texted Lisa. We were all in agreement. If we stayed home we'd all sulk. If we went out, the worst that could happen would be that we'd get wet.
So four of us went on an afternoon's drive round Mersham and Aldington. We found fourteen geocaches in phone boxes and cherry trees; near rivers and in tree stumps. We failed to find one. And we didn't get very wet at all. In fact bearing in mind how bad the rain had been during the morning the afternoon's weather was fine. We had a really good afternoon.
And so home, and on to Folkestone for Chinese; which was very gratefully received. As were three more geocaches that Jose had made up for me. Now to plant them somewhere...
There was an interesting article on the radio as I drove to work this morning. Apparently there are moves afoot to change the criteria for which honours, awards and decorations are presented. In a novel break with established tradition it is being proposed that one will no longer be given an OBE or a knighthood for merely doing the job for which one is (more than) adequately paid. The idea being that recognition should be given to those pillars of society who deserve it for a change. A novel concept. The only surprising thing about this scheme is that it has taken so long for the establishment to realise that such a change needs to be made. Regular readers of this drivel may recall that I ranted on this very subject over five years ago on January 4 2007.
Regular readers of this drivel may also recall that I recently entered a short story competition. It transpires that I didn't win. Realistically I never expected to, but there's no denying that I (and my team of volunteer proof-readers) put in quite a bit of effort into the contest. It would have been good to have at least made the short list that was published this morning. I suppose I shouldn't sulk; over one hundred other people have also failed to make the grade. I shall console myself by throwing rocks at those who were good enough. I wonder what I might do with the stories I came up with. How does one go about getting a story published? I wonder if there might be any interest in them?
Something else that regular readers my remember was that an old mucker of mine has been sentenced to five years imprisonment for defrauding his employer. I had plans to write to him during his spell in the chokey; maybe even visiting him. I sent an email off to the prison service a few weeks ago to put the wheels in motion; I got a reply today. He has declined to give permission to let me know which prison he is in. That is his right to do so; I imagine that in his position I might have done the same. I am reliably informed that a lot of people who "go inside" cut themselves off in this way. But I would like to have sent him a line.
I arrived at work to be greeted with amazement by one of my colleagues. Apparently there is a post on Facebook tagging me as being at Chessington World of Adventure this morning. It would seem there is an imposter masquerading as me at a fun park. I wish it had been me. I enjoyed my day at Thorpe Park a couple of months ago. A day at Chessington would do me good.
Meanwhile our old friend science has found that double stars can have planetary systems. One of the standard astronomical talks I give is about why we haven't met any aliens (yet). I might have to revisit some of the numbers I produce in that talk in light of what science has found. Something else that might need revisiting is my theories on the cost of space travel. With science now of the opinion that a space elevator could actually be a practical proposition.
Getting into space becomes (relatively) cheap. NASA should be pleased about that.
And so home again. I took a slight detour on the way home. It was only fifteen minutes after sunset, so I did a quick geocache in Chartham...
I did the monthly accounts this morning. They could have been a lot worse. I shouldn’t grumble. There was a dodgy five minutes when I couldn’t find the astro club’s cheque book (the astro club owes me a squillion quid for the new club banners), but it was eventually found. It was in a very safe place. It was where I’d put it for safe keeping.
I then went up to town. Via a civic building to find a geocache concealed in it. The phrase “civic building” is deliberately vague – I’m not giving away any more than I need to (!) I then tried to pay the cheque from the astro club into the bank. The automated device wouldn’t have any of it, so I resorted to using the counter like everyone else. Interestingly the bank had a sign up saying that if you aren’t one of their customers and you want to use the counter for anything between 11am and 2pm they will charge you fifteen quid. I thought that was rather steep.
And so home via Wilkos where I got the ingredients of a bonfire beer. I know bonfire is still months away, but beer needs preparation. On the way home I met up with Martin who was also having a day’s skive, and we exchanged insults for a bit.
Once home I spent the morning attacking the washing basket. After a long weekend camping we had more washing than sense. Eventually I got the washing basket empty enough to put the lid on; but it took some doing. Whilst I washed I got the bonfire beer warmed up and into the mash tub. This brew is a best bitter with (hopefully) a subtle hint of banana. Just how subtle it will be is something that remains to be seen. I have a bit of a problem in that the DTP package I used to make beer labels doesn’t work any more. If any of my loyal readers might suggest a beer label designer, I am all ears.
Round to the Fudgery. With the “My Boy TM ” – mobile in the garage I’d offered to drive for the mission to take the pestilential pup for his pre-med shots prior to his knackersectomy. It turns out the poor pooch is in a bad way. He is a unibollock; only possessing one. There might be another which hasn’t dropped. The vet will have a rummage during the surgery. Poor Fudge. He also has a growth on his ear with is possibly cancerous, but is akin to a wart and is nothing to worry about. It’s easy for the vet to say that.
To lighten the mood I explained to Lacey about how you make rabbits. I explained how you stretch a cat’s head and glue on long ears and it turns into a rabbit. Lacey didn’t believe a word of it. Which was probably for the best.
Last night I wasn't the last one to go to bed. I had a bit of a sniffle, and was hoping it wouldn't develop into something worse. So I took myself off to bed. I woke feeling surprisingly chipper. I was pleased about that.
A spot of early morning fishing, a bit of tent tidying, a Stilton omelette, and soon we were all busy packing up the camp site. I was rather miffed as I took my tent down. Again I found that the footprint groundsheet of our tent had done precious little other than to have collected a small lake of water under our tent; thereby delaying packing the tent away by at least half an hour whilst we waited for the thing to dry. This isn't the first time that something like this has happened. I am seriously considering abandoning the whole concept of footprint groundsheets. And just as we were about to bring down our mess tent the rain started. So the tent has been left up. We'll get it down in a few days once it's dried.
And so with much of the gear safely into storage, the camping season is over for another year. There is talk of a week-long camp next year; depending on what happens with the August Teston kite festival. But next August is still a year away. There's lots of more immediate stuff to worry about before next August's holiday. Geocaching outings to be planned for next weekend; a cycle trip to be fitted in some time in the next month, and then I really need to start getting organised for this year's bonfire season which will be upon us all too soon; I have promised to supply five gallons of banana ale for one of the events.
And another possible outing was suggested as we watched an episode of "Time Team" today which featured an excavation at Shorneclife Redoubt. I didn't know that there was a redoubt at Shornecliffe. I might just have to investigate that...
I *could* have done a spot of early morning fishing, but I really couldn't be bothered to get out of my pit. I finally emerged about 8am, and had a spot of fishing then with Steve. Whilst I fished, the Hoseys photographed. As an experiment I stopped using maggots as bait and tried some old boilies I'd found in my tackle bag. They worked to a degree. I caught fewer fish that i would have with maggots, but they were bigger; including two huge ones that got away.
Brekkie was good as always. There was a problem in that the milk had gone off in the heat. I was fine. I can drink black coffee. And as everyone went off to collect others or to do shopping I went back to the pond for some more fishing.
Steve was soon back with Sarah, who was feeling better. Andy and Julie came out too, as did Keith and Amy. And with the sun out we enjoyed a good afternoon. Initially we had some excitement. One of the duck houses had slipped its moorings and needed someone to swim out to retrieve duck house and moorings. As always if swimming in duck ponds is required, I am the main man. Swimming was quite refreshing on a hot day, as was the crafty pint I had afterwards.
More fishing, more sitting about, we had a really good afternoon. Tea was none too shabby either. Fajitas are always good, and tonight’s were especially good. And with tea done and washed up we sat round the camp fire until late. All too soon we had to wave farewell to our visitors, and as people slowly left the fire and went to their beds I sat by the fire and dozed. I would rather sit with people and doze than go to bed. But tonight I gave the port a miss; I was feeling a tad under the weather.
I hope I'm not sickening for something...
Within minutes of climbing into my pit last night the rain started. It was heavy; bordering on to torrential, and it went on all night long. The Rear Admiral texted me at 6.10am to ask if I wanted to go fishing. I soon heard that my reply made him giggle, I stayed in bed listening to the rain and sulking about the rain until 8am when I got up, abluted in the rain, and sulked about the rain in the mess tent.
We had a leisurely breakfast in the rain, and washed up in the rain. And with no sign of the rain abating I formally declared Emergency Plan B (beer) to be in effect, and helped myself to the generous servings of the home brew. Which wasn't really the best thing to do becase just as I started the fourth pint so the weather cheered up and visitors arrived. It wasn't fair that Sarah wasn't well, but Steve came out, as did the O'Latas. Whilst the (supposedly) grown ups sat and chatted and dyed their hair, the littluns played "Beer Can Pinyata" and made their own home-made poo-sticks (from poo and sticks).
Tea was good - sweet & sour and all sorts of goodies with it. It was a shame that I dozed through much of the afternoon and evening, but I recovered enough to do a rather amazing rendition of "Foo-Foo the Bunny Rabbit" at the camp fire before we adjourned for port and cheese; finally crawling into our pits at 1am.
I woke for a tiddle at 3am; it was surprisingly cold. I had a vague idea to be up with the lark for a spot of early morning fishing today. By the time I'd overslept then had my morning ablution I eventually got to the pond shortly after 8am. I caught a few tiddlers and was contemplating making my way back to camp when Lisa and Earle wandered up with a cuppa for me. There was apparently little life back at camp so we carried on fishing until summoned for brekkie at 11am. Brekkie was rather good, and after washing up we all slobbed about for an hour or so. You can't beat slobbing about in a field.
After a rather protracted slob we got up. Some had works socials to attend, others had beloveds to collect. Lisa, Earle and I had seen Egerton on a map and had planned a ramble round the area doing a spot of geocaching on the way. We had a really good afternoon in the sunshine; marreed only by the total loss of phone and internet and GPS signal (which did make geocaching a tad problematical). On the way we met up with the Bat and the Hose-Beast, and only failing to find one of the geocaches we moved into Pluckley. Finding the cache at the church was relatively easy. We were then planning to walk on to another cache a way away, but it started raining. The Hose-Beast had some choice words to say on the matter, and we went into the Black Horse to shelter from the torrent. By some amazing co-incidence the Black Horse was staging a beer festival; so we felt it would be rude not to have a couple of their offerings (including half a pint of the aptly-named "Thunderer").
Back to camp where Steve had arrived. We pitched his tent and then did some Hosey-caching. Hosey-caching is basically home-made geocaching, and the principle worked vary well. An entertaining time was had by all until the light began to fail, So we had tea - chicken casserole - and took the mickey out of "Worzel" until beer was abandoned in favour of port.
We staggered to our beds at 2am. Hic!
I was woken at 5am by the sensation of having my face gently licked. I was hoping that "er indoors TM" wasn't getting any funny ideas, but it was Fudge being excitable. He does that. Having been woken at 5am I should have stayed up, but I thought I'd have a few more minutes kip, and that was fatal. I was then running late for the rest of the morning.
Martin arrived, and we set off to camp via Tesco for some supplies. No one told me that a small bit of halloumi goes a long way; I bought about four times too much. Notwithstanding surplus cheese we were soon at camp and it didn't take long to load up trailers. We took a little while to plan where to put our tents; there's no denying that there was an abundance of dung. But once tents were up the halloumi was put to good use and a rather enjoyable lunch was had by all.
The afternoon was used for a spot of fishing, and mince and pasta washed down with an abundance of beer made for a rather enjoyable tea. I put my cooking hammer to good use and chopped some firewood with it, and as it got dark so we sat round the camp fire. People slowly went to bed, and port and cheese were opened. Oh yes (!)
Eventually we staggered off to bed shortly after midnight; pausing only briefly for the Rear Admiral to lose the impromptu farting contest.
Up with the lark, and after a very swift brekkie I was loading gear into the car for the up-coming camping extravaganza. Loading the car for kite festivals is easy. For some reason doing exactly the same for Bat-Camp is a nightmare. I never remember half the stuff we need. It didn't help having Fudge dancing underneath where I was trying to put down heavy tents either.
Eventually I got the car loaded; and then I mowed the lawn. I had been told that Fudge didn't like lawnmowers. He didn't seem bothered by our one. But one the lawn was mowed and lunch was scoffed he did seem bothered when I went out and left him for a few hours. Oh well. He'll have to get used to that. I met up with Lisa and Earle and we spent a pleasant few hours in the countryside near Woodchurch finding another fourteen geocaches and completing three more geocaching challenges.
I would love to have taken Fudge along, but he is currently lacking in the requisite social graces, being seemingly unable to grasp the concept of celibacy. Mind you the appointment for his knackersectomy has been made. I'm not impressed though. As well as charging far too much for the operation, the vet also wants sixty quid for two "health boosting" injections during the month before the operation.
Talking of which, Fudge's entourage came to visit. Specifically they came to visit Fudge. And then we all walked round to Asda where we got requisites for the weekend. I'm looking forward to going off on my hols. As always, in my absence "My Boy TM" takes command of the homestead. Any housebreakers who fancy their chances with him are welcome to have a go...
I had a minor panic this morning. My computer failed to load Windows. It then went into a self-repair mode which it wouldn't exit. After half an hour I got a message saying it had no idea what was wrong with itself, thank you and goodnight. It then suggested unplugging any cameras and trying a reboot. It turned out that if you're going to plug a phone into a USB port to charge it, you should do so *after* the computer has booted up. It doesn't like it if you plug the phone in before turning the computer on.
I then walked Fudge round the block. He was fine. Training is working slowly. I then left him "home alone" for a bit whilst I went out on a mission with Lisa and Earle. We got the gas for the weekend, and then to Wye for a walk in the sunshine. Up and down the Downs - my poor heart. It nearly did for me. Whilst we were at it we followed a few geocaching trails. It's now three weeks since I found my first geocache, and today I found my hundredth. Whilst we were out I got a text from another geocaching mission; I'd completely forgotten I had an invite to Sumner's Ponds this weekend.
Home, and I took Fudge for another walk. He's getting better on the lead; a shame he seems to need to pee every ten yards. I suspect it's a dog thing.
And then (being Tuesday) the clans gathered at our place. Fudge found himself locked in the kitchen, having attempted to express his affection in the physical way that boy dogs do once too often.
His knacks can't get cut off too soon...(!)
I was hoping to take Fudge for a walk today, but he just can't do polite company. When it's just "er indoors TM" and/or me, he's fine. Perfect behaviour; no problems. If anyone else is about he become a sexually aroused whirlwind. Training is ongoing as is the campaign to have his knacks removed, but it the meantime he can't be trusted when others are about.
Fortunately "Daddies Little Angel TM" was about today. She took charge of him to continue "Dog School". I left them to it as Fudge tried to hump Sid for the umpteenth time.
I met up with Steve and Maria and we set off to Goudhurst. there is a six mile walk round the countryside which covers fifteen geocaches (and a bonus cache for anyone who finds all fifteen). We had a really good walk in the country. There was a dodgy five minutes when we found that (apparently) Goudhurst is home to werewolves. And there was a frankly disappointing episode when we stopped at the Globe and Rainbow in Kilndown for a lunch stop. The beer was surprisingly good. Surprisingly in that I would have though that the bar staff's attitude was enough to sour anything. It's quite plain they don't want the custom; their attitude was somewhere between rude and arrogant. I would not go back again, and would not advise anyone else to do so.
But trivial problems were soon overcome, and we had our picnic a little way further along the track. There was a rope swing nearby, so we played silly beggars on it for a little while and achieved a geocaching challenge into the bargain. As the day went on so it got hotter and we did begin to wilt. The Goudhurst Millennium Walk is rather rubbish in that it starts off clearly signposted, and as it goes on it becomes more and more vague; eventually becoming just random unmarked footpaths. But notwithstanding landowners who don't mark rights of way we found all fifteen geocaches and even went on to find the bonus sixteenth as well. We did feel rather pleased with ourselves.
Home, and then on to astro club committee meeting (via two more geocaches). A good meeting, a good chat with friends, and we all went outside shortly after 9pm to watch the I.S.S. pass overhead. I took the opportunity to test out my new Google Sky app. I was rather disappointed to find that Google Sky didn't have the I.S.S. on it...
Another restless night. I don't mind the hot days; it's the hot nights I don't like. It's rather frustrating to have spent much of yesterday looking forward to watching a film with friends only to sleep through the film, and then to go home and lay awake restless for much of the night
And so to work again. I didn't have the Sunday service on the radio this morning. Instead there was a discussion about a party which had been held to celebrate the four hundredth anniversary of the Pendle Witches Trial. I felt sorry for the organisers of the event who had clearly done their best to put on a family fun day, and to raise money for a good cause. On the one hand they were under attack for making light of the deaths of ten innocent people, and on the other hand they were accused of child abuse for making kiddies think that dressing as a witch is harmless fun.
I must admit that I got a bit cross with the do-gooder who accused the organisers of child abuse. When I was younger I would have stood side by side with that do-gooder waving my bible in the air. As I grew older (but not wiser) I had a complete change of heart, and I would have (verbally) attacked the do-gooder and asked if he had magical pixies in his garden as well as his imaginary friends and the voices in his head. And now... I really don't know what I believe. But I do believe that do-gooders who force their religious views on to children do far more harm that anyone who invites them to dress up in a silly costume for fun.
As a child I was in the Boys Brigade. I *loved* it; lapped up all of what I was told, and had no idea that I was being slowly and quietly brainwashed by religion until some years after I'd taken the confirmation they'd led me to.
The radio article ended just as I drove into Chilham. I went to work via a slight detour this morning. With (seemingly) the rest of the world at liberty to go geocaching today I didn't want to be left out, so I did a quick "cache and grab".
I can't believe how popular the entire geocaching thing has become just recently. A very good friend of mine has been telling me about it for months and I wasn't interested. After all, going looking for little plastic boxes sounds rather lame. But when you find your first little plastic box hidden on the pavement that you walk along every day, you start to wonder how many others there might be. And you start looking. There's about one hundred and six (as of this afternoon) of the things within three miles of my house. I think it's fair to say that over the last couple of weeks I've converted over a dozen people to the cause.
I didn't sulk as much as I might have done today. Others had gone to the beach today because I was working and I'm not keen on the beach anyway, and because the weather had been forecast to be even hotter than yesterday and I don't really like the heat. Hoever it didn't turn out to be as hot as predicted.
Weather forecasting is a joke really. The forecasters look at what happened the day before and just predict a bit more of the same; throwing in a wet or a dry spell for a bit of variety. And when they get it wrong, no one does anything because they are expected to get it wrong anyway.
I did my bit at work and then made my way home again. And I had the shock of my life.
Whilst driving along a rather dark part of the A28 I suddenly spotted a cyclist who came seemingly out of nowhere. It was after dark and this twit was dressed in black and had no lights and no reflectors. With a lot of oncoming traffic I could not swerve, but had to do an emergency stop. Fortunately there was no one behind me or things would have been messy. Why do people cycle so dangerously? Couldn't he have at least worn something light so he could have been seen, rather than wearing something dark to act as camouflage?
I had a terrible night's sleep. Fudge woke me with his crying at 2am. He sounds so heartbroken when he cries in the night. He wouldn't settle, so we broke all the rules and allowed him upstairs where he was as good as gold. I nodded back off (despite the heat) only to be woken a couple of hours later by some feeble-minded simpleton outside shouting to the world about his passionate love for some football team based over two hundred and fifty miles away.
I can’t help but wonder how people choose their favourite football teams. I can understand supporting the local team, or the team of their birthplace, or a team from somewhere with which someone has a special connection. But how can so many people who are Kentish born-and-bred be so devoted to teams from Manchester, Liverpool and Leeds? What’s the attraction? I really cannot fathom it.
I got up perhaps a little earlier than I might have done today. Having booked leave for camping weekends and with the vagaries of my shifts I seem to be off work for most of August but was rota-ed to be working this weekend. Bearing in mind what Ive been doing for the last week it seems somewhat ironic that today is National Geocaching Day and I was due to be working. So I left home a little early with a view to doing a cache on the way to work. I found it right away, and then went to spend a little while looking for the geocache near work that I’d failed to find half a dozen times. I knew it was in a hedge beneath some power lines. Fortunately for me someone had trimmed the hedge a few days ago. The cache was immediately obvious and it even contained a trackable. This trackable was a little dragonfly which had been originally been put into a cache a year ago by a six year old in Colorado with instructions for the thing to find its way to France. From Colorado it had gone to Tennessee then on to New York, Germany and Tunbridge Wells before ending up in a hedge in Canterbury. I need to send it France-wards. I might put it within walking distance of the Eurostar terminal and see what happens.
I hadn’t realised how out of touch with the world I have become lately. My drive to and from work is when I listen to the news, and I hadn’t listened to the news for some time. I’m not sure whether I’m glad or sorry to say that I haven’t actually missed much. Science has found some new spiders in a cave in California, And NASA’s curiosity rover continues its extra-terrestrial odyssey whilst being ignored by the world at large. In fact the most riveting development was an admission from the top brass at the Ministry of Defence that UFOs are more likely to be Russian than Martian…
It turned out that despite it being a week day there were a few of us available to get into mischief today. Five of us gathered chez moi at 9am and we set off on what was originally planned to be a geocaching extravaganza. I'd planned a route which would take us three hours to cover and would visit seventeen geocaching sites; as well as getting us a spot of McBreakfast into the bargain.
In the end it turned out that I was being rather ambitious. We ended up taking two and a half hours just to get to McBreakfast; so we abandoned the entire Sevington and Hinxhill sections of the route. We can do them at any time. But the day was still a good one. We visited ten cache sites, and only failed on two of them. And we even found a red herring(!). We got home an hour later than planned, and after a shower and a quick spot of lunch I watched a film I'd recorded about the pirate Blackbeard. It was quite good.
One of the employment agencies phoned about a potential job. A few months ago I would be rather enthusiastic about the prospect. Now, having been turned down so many times, I'm rather resigned to the fact that nothing will come of it. But hope springs eternal...
"My Boy TM" then arrived with Fudge. He and his posse are of to foreign parts for the weekend and so we are looking after "problem pup". He's apparently getting too excitable. I say "probably"; there's no "probably" about it. He can be excitable. I wonder if it's time to cut his goolies off. Or just walk him a lot more than he has been walked.
As "My Boy TM" set off I set off with Fudge. A good walk usually works wonders with him. And this morning I'd been given a really good present. A ready-made geocache. (Cheers Jose!) And on our mission this morning I'd found just the place to hide it. So I went to that place, hid it, took the GPS co-ordinates six times (to get an average), walked another two miles to wear the pup out, and came home. As Fudge slept I then logged my third geocache hide with the nice people at geocaching dot com.
"er indoors TM" came home and we set off to Park Farm where we met Chris. A nice walk in the evening with the dog, and we did three geocaches too...