23 September 2018 (Sunday) - Still Raining


Finding myself wide awake in the small hours I watched a couple of episodes of “The Job Lot” and went back to bed. I was eventually woken by the sound of the rain on the window at nine o’clock.
As I scoffed my toast I had a look at the Internet. Apparently a looney had run riot in the town centre with a chainsaw; wreaking havoc on Coral’s betting shop and a lamp post. I was glad he’d not damaged any of the snow dogs.

I spent much of the morning playing “Bubble Witch Saga”; with torrential rain outside there wasn’t much else going on. Yesterday I mentioned Treacle didn’t seem well; this morning she ate both hers and Fudge’s breakfast, did a humungous “business” in the garden then came in and crapped on the carpet so I’m assuming she’s on the mend.

With nothing else on the itinerary for today we loaded the dogs into my car and drove down to Hastings to see relatives. My mum and dad were well as was mother-in-law. And with the rain subsiding somewhat we walked the dogs round Alexandra Park.
Hastings’ Alexandra Park is crap compared to Ashford’s Viccie Park. In Viccie Park the dogs can run riot. In Alexanrda park the dogs are only allowed off the lead in certain areas, and there is a thousand pound fine if the dogs go in any of the ponds or streams. What’s that all about? What’s the point of taking a dog to the park if they can’t run riot?
We walked rather sedately for fifteen minutes and found a couple of film pots. One under a rock, one up a tree. We stopped off on our way home to fail to find another cache, and then my piss boiled…

We drove at about fifteen miles an hour for five miles between Newenden and Rolvenden as there was an organized cycle race taking place on the main A28. We knew it was an organized cycle race as we’d been stopped by the race’s stop-go road signs in Newenden, and we were stopped from going any faster than fifteen miles an hour from Newenden to Rolvenden by a car (with registration V8 8HYS) which had large signs saying “Caution – Cycle Race” and was making sure that no one could get past. I didn’t think cycle races were allowed on the main roads?
I would have squealed them up to the police had their on-line squealing-up website not required a ten-stage squealing process.

Once home we fed the dogs, and they both soon settled. We then popped round to see "My Boy TM" and his chapter of the tribe. Yesterday I’d suggested going out for dinner; this morning Cheryl said she’d do dinner. Cheryl come up with a rather good chicken dinner.

For all that it has been a rather wet weekend, it hasn’t been a bad one…

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