On the way to work
yesterday evening I popped into Morrisons last night to get some
supplies for the night shift. I hadn't been in the store for more
than thirty seconds when some rather loud woman stopped me and
started ranting about how I would never believe what a rude husband
she had. A slightly smaller version of her (presumably her
daughter) was standing at her side and nodding in agreement.
After a few minutes of my trying to escape the smaller one
(presumably the daughter) announced "THERE HE IS"
and the loud one stopped in mid-sentence and the two of them flew at
a rather frightened-looking mouse of a man who was quivering by the
yogurts.
I took my chance to
escape, and (with a basket of stuff to scoff overnight) I soon
took my place in the queue at the checkout. Just as the chap in front
of me was about to be served he walked away. The checkout girl and I
watched him walk out of the store, then we both looked at the gallon
of milk and two gallons of cider he'd left on the counter. I shoved
it out of the way of my shopping, and I was just finishing paying for
my stuff when the bloke who'd left his shopping appeared again.
Apparently he'd left his wallet in his car and wasn't happy that I'd
not waited for him before pushing to the front of the queue...
I stopped off on my way
to work in South Canterbury Road. Yesterday I mentioned how someone
new to the world of hiding tupperware had warned me that the
felonious miscreants who had stolen his geocaches had been to one of
mine.
He seemed convinced that
it stood to reason that if a geocache had gone missing then the
person who took it away can only be the last person to have logged a
visit to that cache on geocaching dot com. I did suggest to him that
if someone was going to go out trashing geocaches then they would be
hardly likely to take the trouble to record anything on geocaching
dot com. I also explained how people new to the game often take
caches home to show their mum, and how people rarely put the caches
back exactly where they found them.
But he wasn't having any
of it.
So I went and had a look
at my cache. The last people to visit his caches had certainly been
to mine. But my geocache was exactly where it was supposed to be. Had
these people decided not to destroy my one? Did they have a personal
vendetta againsnt my new-found friend?
Or were they (as I had
said) actually utterly innocent of any geo-crimes?
I suspect this was a
whole load of fuss over nothing. Life usually is.
I got to work and had a
rather quiet night shift. Probably just as well; I wasn't feeling on
top form. But I did my bit, and then came home via the petrol
station.
Once home I took "Furry
Face TM" for a quick walk; a walk which we
curtailed as the rain started. Today's walk was quite uneventful; we
met Leroy the pug but other than that we didn't see any other dogs.
We got back just as the
heavens opened, and I then took myself off to bed. After a couple of
hours my dog declared "Red Alert" for no reason that
I could fathom so I got up to settle him, and then over a late
brekkie I watched the latest episode of "Dark Matter"
which has now started to get quite interesting.
I then had an idea for a
new Wherigo project; for all that I have filled Ashford with the
things there are none in Canterbury. I started working on a James
Bond themed Wherigo. The time flew by; I spent five hours working on
it.
And after a rather good
bit ot tea Brian and Rachel came round. Ostensibly to buy candles;
the evening became rather boozy. Should do that more often...
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