29 August 2015 (Saturday) - Working
I'd set my alarm this morning, and as is usually the case when I have an alarm set, I woke well before it was due to go off. I gave up trying to sleep shortly before 5.30am and came downstairs. After my morning shave "Furry Face TM" was itching to go outside. I warned him to be quiet (not that he understands) and I went into the garden with him. He started to bark, looked at me, and shut up.
He had no interest in doing the sort of thing I'd actually let him out to do. He just ran around the garden like a thing possessed for thirty seconds, then went back inside. He then tried to scrounge my toast, and sat on my lap to be combed whilst I watched "Secret Diary of a Call Girl" in which (somewhat disappointingly) neither Billie Piper nor her stunt double flopped anything out.
I took a very minor detour on my way to work; thirty seconds after I'd arrived home from work on Wednesday morning a new geocache had gone lilve in Godmersham. I'd actually driven past it on my way home then, and so this morning I went to find it.
I found it, Happy dance.
As I then drove on to work the radio was broadcasting from an orchard which was only ten miles away from where I live and from where I work. There was a radio program about the Kentish apple industry. As anyone who's been to the county will know, apples are big business locally. The farmer being interviewed was saying that it was his goal to have as much as sixty five percent of the apples eaten in the UK to be actually grown in the UK. But apparently this will only happen if the British apple-eating community will go for it. i.e. pay for it.
I then stopped off at Morrisons where these same Kentish apples were (weight for weight) three times the price of bananas grown in Africa. How does that work?
I would have asked the nice assistants, but they were all busy having a squabble. The manager had been bellowing down the store for some time. She then stopped shouting at Rachel and screamed at Terry to tell him to ask Rachel how many times she had to be shouted at before she'd reply. Poor Terry totally missed the sarcasm and went up to daydreaming Rachel (on the fags counter) and actually asked her that very question.
I carried on towards work, stopping off to hide the Wherigo cache I've been working on all week. And I then spotted two minor problems.
Firstly the rules say that caches have to be a certain distance apart. My intended spot was too close to another one I'd hidden some time ago. I found another spot, but I shall have to re-jig the programming when I get home. Secondly the cache I was going to hide was silver in colour and it did stand out somewhat.
So I took it with me, coloured in in black marker pen, did a day's work and fully intended to hide it on my way home.
I'll do it in the morning...