26 January 2019 (Saturday) - Dad's Birthday


For once we had a really good night. No fidgeting, grumbling barking or scrapping. I was *so* grateful for that.
Over toast I had a look at Facebook. Quite a few people were posting about having had Burns night celebrations last night. A couple of local pubs were advertising Burns night events tonight. I can’t understand this obsession with Scotland that so many people in my circles seem to have. Living less than ten miles from the coast as I do, it is difficult to get much further from Scotland whilst staying on the same island. If Scotland is so wonderful, why live so far from the place?
And on a less grumbling note Facebook sent me a message – I’ve been on Facebook for twelve years now. What did I ever do before I was on that website? And talking of Facebook I had a message. An ex-cub had commented on the same Ashford-related group as I had, and he had got in touch with me. He’s nearly thirty now – was it really nineteen years since we went to Canada together?

With a few minutes spare I tried to log on to my bank account. In order to do so I have to use a little gadget to generate a security number. I told the bank I thought it was a stupid idea years ago, and today the thing didn’t work at all. I wasted twenty minutes as the nice lady at the bank helped me install an app on my phone which would generate that security number. Eventually I got to see my bank statement, and I had a look at my accounts. Could be better… could be a lot worse.

We settled the dogs and went out. First of all to the post office where I had a parcel to collect (Lego roof tiles), then on to Tesco’s cash machine for money. As I withdrew cash the cheeky machine asked if I was going to buy anything from Tesco today.
Pausing only briefly in Winchelsea for geocachical reasons we were soon at the Queen’s Head Inn in Icklesham where we met Mum and Dad and brother. Today was dad’s birthday. Rather than buying him a pressie that he doesn’t want we thought he might like dinner. He did. As did we all. It was good to catch up – should do it more often. I took a few photos, (but not that many) and then slept most of the way home.

We came home to mayhem. One of the dogs had pulled the bin out of the kitchen cupboard. There was mess strewn everywhere. We cleared the mess and wondered who was to blame. The most likely suspect is Treacle as she’s often had the living room bin over, but it could have been Pogo. (It couldn’t have been Fudge; he can do no wrong.)
The dogs needed a walk; we drove down to Aldington where we had a go at a geocache there. To find it we had to solve a puzzle based on the war memorial. We didn’t so much “solve it” as “blag it”, but eventually we found it. And after five minutes fighting we extracted it from its hidey-hole and did the secret geo-rituals. I’ve now found all the caches within five miles of home (except two which aren’t there and are up for archiving). There are now only five that I haven’t found within seven miles of home.
We then walked the dogs round the village green; after all that was why we’d gone out. The weather wasn’t good though. The dogs don’t seem to mind, but I’m getting too old to be cold and wet.

Once home we had a cuppa to warm us up, and I carried on looking at the household accounts. I need to think about the breakdown policy on the washing machine. We have this policy that when the thing packs up, the nice man comes out and fixes it. Which is all very well all the time the thing is breaking down. But bearing in mind it didn’t break once last year, that was over two hundred quid down the toilet. I’m tempted to cancel the policy and put the money aside each month, and when the thing finally gives up the ghost, get a new one. I could also do with downgrading my mobile phone contract, and seriously reconsidering my dentist standing order.
The six-monthly payment for Viz magazine was taken this month; that’s one thing I’m not cancelling.
As I pondered which policies to cancel and which to continue I kept sniggering at Pogo’s stomach which was making rather impressive gurgling noises while he slept.
I then went upstairs to unpack the Lego parcel I’d collected earlier. Pogo came with me, and once we were at the top of the stairs he was sick. I thought his stomach had been gurgling.

After a rather big dinner we weren’t feeling hungry so we had some pancakes whilst watching this week’s episode of “Hunted”. Some of the contestants on that show really are stupid. And then I went up to the attic and played Lego for a while. It was all going rather well until all three dogs came up together to help me…

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