I would have slept well
if not for a vivid dream about an overheating lavatory. I wonder what that was
all about?
I got up and did my
exercise routine again. I’m finding it a little like hard work, but it is only
early days yet. Fortunately both dogs were asleep go I could get on with it. I
tried a little planking yesterday evening and both thought it was a great game.
As I scoffed three
hundred calories of brekkie I watched the telly. “Lee and Dean”
is a rather good mockumentary about two builders. I’m looking forward to the
next episode.
I then sparked up my
lap-top and got wound up by the Internet. On July 3rd 2016 I was
part of a twenty-four hours long geocaching event. This started with an
official geo-event which took over a year to set up purely because the local
geo-authorities didn’t like the idea. It was the sort of thing that happens all
the time in other places, and is allowed for in the regulation. It took a *lot* of arguing to get one such event
locally; finally the thing was allowed after an appeal to head office in
Seattle. This morning I saw that there is a geo-event coming up not too far
away which breaks several rules. Not only is it part of an already established
activity, it is religious too. Both supposedly big no-nos, but that has been allowed…
Over on Facebook those
who have never set foot in a local pub were bemoaning the demolition of a
nearby pub which had stood derelict for years.
I
went to the petrol station on the ring road to refuel. For once the grannie on
the counter was without admirers and so I could get in and out quickly. As I
then drove on past Sainsbury's I saw their petrol was three pence per litre
more expensive. I'd saved over a quid and a half by going to the place on the
ring road. But Sainsbury's is less than a minute's drive from there. How is there
such a price difference? Don't people compare prices like I do? (Am I turning into my grandmother?)
As
I drove up the motorway the radio was spewing its morning drivel. Today they
were discussing the recent incident in Salisbury in which the Russian Sergei
Skripal and his daughter Yulia were poisoned with a military-grade nerve agent.
The government is facing all sorts of problems over this; having accused Russia
of the attack it seems the only evidence
to blame them is circumstantial, and the
Russians have got the arse.
Personally
I suspect that the line the Russians are taking isn't so much "it wasn't us" as "you can't prove nuffink", but what
do I know?
I
got to work and my phone pinged. Three new geocaches not two miles down the
road. Had I left for work ten minutes later I would have been in a position to
chase a First to Find. But I didn't fancy navigating the rush hour traffic
again.
An
hour and a half later I had a tea break and so (with the traffic having eased) I thought I might have a little
drive out but all three First to Finds had been claimed. By the same person...
I would have been content with just one of them…
With
work done I came home. I made good time home, and with the lighter evenings I
was able to take the dogs round the park. Someone had ridden a horse through
the park today; I wish they wouldn’t; Treacle just eats the horse poo.
We
came back from our walk to find "er indoors TM" wrestling with
the Hoover. It was totally blocked with fragments of dog toy. Half an hour with
the screwdriver had the Hoover in pieces and eventually we unblocked the thing.
We
watched another episode of Bake-Off whilst scoffing a rather good bit of dinner
and guzzling a bottle of plonk. Not a bad way to spend the evening…
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