I
slept well, but did have a night plagued with rather vivid dreams in which the
departmental health and safety officer was walking round work clouting everyone
over the head (rather vigorously)
with a clipboard and shouting “HAZARD!!”
at the most ridiculous things.
Waking
came as something of a blessed relief.
Over
brekkie Facebook reminded my that two years ago I went for a job interview.
Reading my diary from two years ago it didn’t look like that interview went
that well but looking back I’d say that was something of a turning point in my
life. I quite like working in an environment where I’m *not* under pressure to look for my colleagues’ mistakes so that
either they get in trouble for making them, or I get in trouble for not finding
them. Mind you, looking back at where I used to work you have to admire the
genius of the administration. Having implemented a “no bullying” policy the management can bully to their heart’s
content secure in the knowledge that no allegations of bullying will be
investigated as the place has a policy of not having bullying in the first
place.
Realising I was getting rather
bitter and twisted again I took a deep breath and pausing only briefly to get
jam into my phone’s charging socket I took the dogs round the park.
Yesterday it rained hard all
day. Today was a beautiful morning. We had a really good walk right up to the
point where we met OrangeHead and her gang of cronies. Fudge decided to have a
transfer of allegiance and walked off with her bunch. He does this *every*
time; the only way to get him to come away is to put his lead on and drag him.
He knows this and runs away whenever I get close. I very nearly walked off and
left him there. I actually did walk off with Treacle on the lead. After a few
minutes he followed rather sheepishly.
He knew he was in trouble…
We got home; I settled the pups
and set off to work. As I drove there was some utter drivel on the radio in
which someone was being interviewed about their skill in writing graphic
novels. Have you ever read a graphic novel? They boil my piss. They aren't
novels at all. They are comic books. I like a comic book (I subscribe to Viz
magazine) but a comic is a comic. Calling it a "novel" is
just wrong. A "novel" has words; a comic book has pictures. In
my more unkind moments I describe graphic novels as being for those who can't
be bothered to read the words so look at the pictures instead. Something of a subtle
difference perhaps?... I turned the radio off.
I'd planned
myself a little geo-mission for this morning. There were two geocaches along
the A249 neither of which had been found in over a year. I thought I might try
for a resuscitation or two, but (to be honest) I wasn't particularly
hopeful about resuscitating either.
I knew my
first target was going to be problematical. Previous finders had mentioned (in
their written logs) the lack of footpaths from the roadside to the cache.
The chap who'd hidden it claimed that according to the ordnance survey maps it
was smack-bang on a footpath. I'm no expert but from the maps I could find, it
looked as though the specified location was smack-bang on some sort of parish
boundary. Still, climbing a broken fence and marching through a planted field
soon had me at the World War II pill box in which the cache was supposedly
hidden.
I couldn't
find it.
To be honest
the cache was part of a series very few of which have been found in the last
couple of years. That could be because
they are clever hides, or because they aren't there any more....
I marched
back through the planted field and across the broken fence back to my car.
My second
target was also not going to be easy. It was originally hidden by someone at
Kent County Council who wanted to attract tourists to their country parks. The
cache's name was "Ouch" and the description suggested "going
in backwards" and not going in from the main road. Clearly it was
going to be in the jungle of undergrowth.
Approaching
from the country park my GPS led me to a thicket and said the cache was some
eighty yards inside it. Like the idiot that I am, I followed the arrow through
hawthorn and bramble. After twenty minutes I found my quarry. I was the first
finder in over a year. Another resuscitation to my name. Happy dance.
Mind you I
think it quite fair to say that the person who'd first hidden it had
drop-kicked the thing into a rather thick hedge a few years ago and had left it
to rot. Perhaps I should put "Needs Archiving" on it?
Pausing only
briefly for a church micro (as one does) I drove on to work.
I'd planned
to get to work early because there was a flu jab clinic today. Normally I'm not
keen on injections, but after the fun I'd just had in the thickets and
brambles, the flu jab was plain sailing. And I got a sweetie too.
The works
canteen was offering cauliflower cheese for lunch. Not too shabby at all.
And so into work. I did my bit and came home to
mayhem. "Stormageddon
- Bringer of Destruction TM" has come to stay for the weekend. We watched “Paw Patrol” until far too late.
No comments:
Post a Comment