For some odd reason I had
a strange dream that I spent much of the night hanging off the edge
of the bed. I woke to find I was not. I wonder what that was all
about.
I got up and had brekkie;
"Furry Face TM" got up two minutes
too late to get any toast. "Last of the Summer Wine"
was on telly. It passed a few minutes. I narrowly avoided yet another
squabble on Facebook, then took my dog for a walk.
The plan was to take the
new path to Willesborough Dykes, cross the railway and come home
through Newtown. On the waay I was planning to do a little
geo-maintenance on two of my less-often-found geocaches. It was only
when we were nearly home that I remembered that plan.
Mind you we did meet up
with a scantily-clad young mother who maade a point of stopping and
fussing Fudge. The littlle that her meagre attire did keep covered
was more than flopped out when she bent down to see my dog.
Here's hoping we meet her
again(!)
Once home I put some
washing in, and set about mucking out the fish pond filter. A smelly
job, but one that needs doing. And having raised a stink I then mowed
the lawn. One load of laundry went onto the line; another load went
in the machine, and I had a look-see in the shed. I was amazed at how
much rubbish I managed to muck out. With less than a quarter of the
shed's contents investigated I already had a car full of rubbish to
take to the tip. So I did a tip run.
The tip was surprisingly
busy for a Monday lunchtime. It would be a lot less busy if people
just threw their rubbish inn the skips. But people don't; so many
people feel they have to kiss goodbye to every scrap they take to
the tip. Why can't they just bung the bag in the skip? Why do they
have to throw each bit in piece by piece, reminiscing as they go?
More laundry went onto
the washing line; undercrackers then went in to scrub. Over lunch I
watched the last episode of "The
Stand". The SkyPlus box said it would play for two
hours; by the time I'd fast-forwarded through the adverts it was much
less than that.
The lawn still looked
scrappy, so I gave it another mow, and sorted more rubbish out of the
shed. I was amazed at whaat I found; I had no idea I had so much in
that shed. Scoobies, frisbees, roofing felt, dead mice; I've another
car load for the tip tomorrow and I've still only sorted out less
than half of the shed's contents.
Having found frisbees I
took "Furry Face TM" for a walk to
see if he could play frisbee. He eats tennis balls, and several
people have commented that we might get on better with a frisbee. We
tried; it was a disaster. He would chase the frisbee, but on catching
it he would then try to eat it. He got rather possessive over the
thing and was very aggressive to other dogs when they came near it. I
had to have serious words with him.
We won't be playing
frisbee again.
What with having had such
a busy day I was rather exhausted by the time "er indoors TM"
went off to bowling. But Monday night is telly night. Gotham is on
soon, and then it will be time for Game of Thrones.
#getyourtitsoutdaenerystargaryen
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