7 August 2012 (Tuesday) - Rather Busy
I woke to find my ear was still bunged up. What a way to start my rather extensive summer holiday (!) I also seem to have developed a rash. I am told that a fellow geocacher has a similar rash. I suspect we picked up some bugs when arsing down a slope in Folkestone at the weekend.
I made a quick phone call to Kent County Council to confirm the arrangements with the key for the kite festival this weekend. The nice man on the phone couldn’t be more helpful. I mentioned about their complaints that they thought the gate hadn’t been locked last year; but the chap had no idea what I was talking about. To the best of his knowledge whoever had been charged with looking after the key last time had done a sterling job. I was pleased about that (!)
I got the laundry onto the washing line and over a spot of brekkie I went through the contents of my letter rack. It was rather full. There were the bank statements, so I did the monthly accounts. There’s no denying that they look rather shabby compared to this time last year, but they could be a whole lot worse.
There was the letter to confirm who should be on the electoral register. And a reminder because I’d not filled out the original letter. The letter said I could do the whole thing on-line, so I did and saved a whole load of farting about.
There was an invitation to take up BT’s hyper-fast broadband. For all that I was spitting bullets last week about the broadband being down, it was only down for two days, and it’s rarely (if ever) failed before. Bearing in mind BT will be twice the price of my current provider, I shall stick with what I’ve got.
There was yet another bank statement for the snake club which folded up some time in the late 1990s. I really should see about closing that account down.
There was an apology from the bank about their recent computer glitch which might just possibly (but didn’t) have affected the astro club’s account.
There was an offer to get cheaper home insurance from the people who do the car insurance. I shall save that letter until January when the renewal is due; by which time I shall have lost it.
And those thoroughly useless people at the union (which I left in February) were offering expensive insurance.
With post sorted I mowed the lawn. That wasted half an hour. I then sorted undercrackers whilst watching “Star Trek”. Putting socks into pairs takes an age. And then I set off on my travels. I’d phoned my G.P. surgery and told them I wasn’t asking for an appointment; I was telling them I was having one. 2.20pm was good for them so I took the scenic route via a couple of geocaches. There was an iffy five minutes when I nearly (but not quite) picked up a discarded dog dung bag thinking it was a geocache, but all turned out well in the end. I got to the doc’s where the nurse hosed out my lug with an amazing gadget. I can now hear again.
Whilst out and about I went to town the scenic route. I couldn’t find the geocache by St Simon’s Church. Passing muggles (non-geocachers are called muggles, you know!) saw me and told me where the cache was. Right in the middle of the bushes and not really accessible in summer. But as I came through the park I found one that er indoors TM" couldn’t find last night. I then went up to Wilko’s to get the makings of Chip’s birthday ale. Whilst in there I got talking with the normal people who (for some reason) thought I was a master brewer and I found myself imparting all sorts of sage wisdom on the subject of making home-brew.
I was planning to look for a fourth geocache on the way home – a particularly elusive one. But a combination of rain and texts made me abandon that idea. I hurried home to give Lisa her gazebo. I shall be putting that gazebo up on Thursday, but I don’t have space in the car for it.
After a quick bit of tea we set off to Chippy's. As we walked up Beaver Road I couldn't resist looking for the geocache I'd missed three times already. I found it this time. And once at Chippy's we all went en masse to the Admiralty for the Tuesday meet-up. Exchanging insults, watching telly. Can't be bad...