11 September 2017 (Monday) - Packing, Glands
It was cold when I got up this morning. So cold that I turned the central heating on. Once it had warmed up I bled a couple of the radiators then had a look-see at the Internet. I found myself getting more wound up about the virtual geocache reward for the best cachers thingy. Take for example this one - the chap who got it has only hidden three caches; the most recent hide being five years ago. How much time, effort and money has this person contributed to the hobby compared with any of the wonderful people in Kent who put out enough caches that I have a several-mile-long dog walk (at least once every week), something to puzzle about most evenings, and something to do on the way to every late shift (and still have loads in reserve to be getting on with)? There are those who deserve these virtual caches, but there are so many people who contribute more and who haven’t been recognised. And I’m now getting more and more wound up that no one else seems in the slightest bit bothered about this.
The dogs and I hitched a lift with "er indoors TM" up to the Repton manor estate and we walked home (past a relatively new geocache). We came through the park just as the forecast rain arrived two hours early, and we got even wetter as I waited whilst Fudge played in the river.
Once home I settled the dogs and drove off to the cashpoint machine, then made a start on packing for our holiday. Due to a minor mix-up with pounds and kilogrammes I found myself wasting time stripping the suitcase barer than it ever needed to be. I’ve probably not packed enough; when I go away I usually pack far too much.
If I need more… I’m told that abroad has shops?
Jimbo called round to get instructions for the next week as he’s going to be house-sitting; if nothing else it will be a holiday for him as well as us. And with Jimbo suitably instructed on the dogs’ habits and the care of my monkey-puzzle tree he set off back to work and I took Fudge to the vet. He’s been worrying the base of his tail quite a bit recently. That is usually a sign that his anal glands “need doing”.
I must admit I keep myself deliberately in the dark as to what exactly “needs doing” with anal glands; I take him to the vets, the nice nurse takes him away, and five minutes all is done. The nice nurse told me that there was a lot to be “done” this time, and asked me all sorts of questions about things best not questioned.
I then spent ten minutes talking to the nice man at Hastings Direct. A little while ago I harangued a colleague for never posting anything on Facebook. Being a nosey sort of person I like seeing what everyone else is up to, and I never hesitate to tell the world my trivia. However my ex-colleague declined to do so. He was adamant that telling the world what he was doing was an open invitation to burglars, and that checking in to anywhere away from home invalidated your house contents insurance policy. This has been preying on my mind for a while, and bearing in mind I shall be a little way away from home over the next week I thought I’d get expert advice.
Let’s just say that the nice man at Hastings Direct laughed when I asked.
Pausing only briefly to repair the bathroom blind that collapsed at the most awkward time, "er indoors TM" boiled up dinner then went bowling. I settled in front of the telly with my dogs and watched “Victoria”. I think an early night might be in order…
I’m now off on my holidays for a week or so. To save weight I’m not taking my lap-top and blogging from my phone isn’t practical. So I’ll see you all in a week or so…
And (much as I like the song) let’s hope I shall be rid of this ear-worm by the time I return. Even if it has got to #6 in the album charts…