11 August 2018 (Saturday) - Rather Busy

I woke early to find Fudge had gone back to his basket overnight. At bed time last night he stood at the bottom of the stair and looked pathetically up them as though going up was akin to climbing Mount Everest. So I carried him up and settled him at the bottom of the bed where he obviously didn’t stay.
He does this so often – he wants to come upstairs at bed time, then after an hour or so goes back to his basket.

With things to do on the morning’s itinerary I walked the dogs earlier than usual today. Viccie Park is rather pretty at six o’clock with the mist rising from the river. As we walked we met dog walkers we’ve never met before, but not many. We didn’t meet many people at all compared to our usual walks. Six o’clock was good. We could just walk without all the dramas we so often experience.
Mind you we did meet one rather special person. Armed with a grabbing-stick and a black sack, a beetroot-faced fellow was ranting about the mess and what a terrible job the council does and how if he doesn’t clear the mess up, no one will. I smiled sweetly and bit my tongue. Didn’t this idiot realise it was half past six in the morning the day after the fun fair had been in full flow until all hours? And there wasn’t *that* much mess anyway.

We came home, the dogs scoffed their brekkie and I settled them and set off to Margate. As I drove the pundits on the radio were still ranting about Boris Johnson’s most recent faux-pas.
And there was also talk about the weed killer glyphosate which amazed me. Some chap in America has been awarded damages having claimed the stuff gave him cancer. Did it? I don’t know. The pundits on the radio wheeled on one of the top nobs at the firm that makes the stuff. This chap took the line that a court’s opinion on the matter outweighs any scientific evidence on the matter. Isn’t that a sad sign of our times?

I got to Margate, parked up, and found Sam in the shop. "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" had taken the dogs for a walk so I went over to the beach to find them. "Stormageddon - Bringer of Destruction TM" was proudly brandishing a snail he’d captured; the boy seems to have developed something of a mollusc obsession.
We went back to the shop, collected Sam, and leaving Steve (whoever he is) in charge we went fifty yards up the road to the Westbrook café for brekkie. Sam and "Stormageddon - Bringer of Destruction TM" had poached eggs on toast; me and the most recent fruit of my loins had the full English, even if most recent grandchild did keep raiding it.

Once we’d scoffed I took "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" to the cash and carry. She loaded the trolley; I pushed it. I was amazed at what she was buying; the sort of stuff that appealed to me doesn’t sell whereas the stuff I wouldn’t touch with a barge pole flies out of the shop.
The plan had been to get to Bookers for opening time… we were only running two hours late by the time we’d paid for it all.
I would have liked to have hung around and got in the way at the shop, but time was pushing on so I headed home. I stopped off for petrol at Sainsbury’s, and wished I hadn’t. as I was queuing someone walked in and asked what he should do if he’d spilled some petrol. Immediately all but one of the petrol station staff went outside to have a look. The queue got longer and longer as the staff stood round a small puddle of petrol. Not one was actually doing anything, but they were all watching it intently.

I came home, and watched “Orange is the New Black” as I scoffed the sandwich I got at the petrol station. And with telly watched and lunch scoffed I got the dogs organized and we set off to Lower Halstow. With an hour or two spare before the evening’s geo-meet I thought I might walk the dogs round the area for a bit (using the local geocaches to mark out a walk for us) so that when it was time for the meet the dogs would be a little less excitable.
It was an idea which almost worked…

We soon got to Lower Halstow and had a rather good walk here and there. The views across the marshes were pretty; the dogs found black mud. As always the geocaches did mark out a route for us. We didn’t find all of them, but the walk was still good. We started the walk with very hyperactive hounds, and as I wandered up to the pub (where the meet-up was to take place) I could see the dogs were both very calm and subdued.
I was first one to get to the meet – I got a glass of pop and asked for some pork scratchings for the dogs. The nice lady asked it they might prefer hand made dog biscuits. I got them some blueberry and honey ones.
In retrospect that was my mistake.
I can remember taking cubs to Baden Powell House in London for an overnight stay many years ago. We’d had a long day, when we got to BPH the kids were worn out and dead on their feet. Just as they were getting into bed one bright spark gave out barley sugar sweets and the kids were up and running round like things possessed all night long.
This was *exactly* what happened to my dogs this evening. They sparked up immediately after they had those biscuits.

Five minutes later people arrived. I managed to give it half an hour - it would have been good to have stayed longer but the dogs were just too wound up. We came home where eventually they calmed down, and once they’d had their dinner we shared a kebab.

Today was rather busy. I took a few photos whilst I was out and about. I seem to have done an awful lot today…

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