Restless dogs made for a restless night. Mind you I suppose
six pints of ale yesterday probably didn’t help an awful lot. Being unable to
sleep I got up and had a shave and generally fiddled about between three and
four o’clock before going back to bed and dozing fitfully until seven o’clock.
I got up, watched an episode of “Little Britain”, then had a look at the internet as I do most
mornings. Yesterday morning I’d put up a video of
me and the dogs; a lot of people had liked it. Quite a few people
had liked the various photos from yesterday’s beer festival too. Talking of
festivals I saw that the date of Brighton Kite Festival has been confirmed as
the first weekend in July. Although I’ve not got my rota that far in advance
yet, what with having already pencilled in family weddings and post wedding
parties I suspect that I will be working that weekend.
I got myself organised, and walked up the road to my car.
I’d left my wellies in there, and would need them today.. Having seen a big
space outside the house I drove the car home. With a few minutes spare I
harvested the dog turds that littered the back garden. This was a far less
unpleasant job than usual; with the turds all having frozen overnight there was
pretty much no niff at all.
We got
ourselves, our luggage and the hounds together, and it wasn’t long before we
were all in the car heading out to Blean. The original plan for today had been
a walk round Bluebell Hill, but the place had been closed because of the snow
only two days ago. We thought Blean might be a more sensible idea for today.
As we drove
we had a phone call; there was a half-marathon in the area and marshalls were
trying to divert cars who were following the race. As we drove we saw some
people in yellow tabards; I made a point of ignoring them, and we were soon
parked up. We found Karl and Tracey, and we went for a rather good walk round
some pretty woods on a rather bright day. The day was was nowhere near as cold
as I thought it might be, but we still insisted the dogs wore their coats. Treacle
wore what I can only describe as a sock and Pogo had an amazing technicolour
dream-coat. Fudge actually had a rather nice coat, not that he would have
agreed
Treacle and
Pogo weren’t bothered by their coats, and Fudge soon got over his sulk. In fact
having a coat on Fudge was a good thing – it was easier to see him when he
wandered off (which he did a couple of times).
Being woodland
all the way, the dogs were off the leads for the whole time. Pogo particularly
seemed to like the freedom. Treacle (as usual) carried sticks here and
there. She does love carrying a stick.
The ground
ranged from firm to sloppy; in some places the mud and puddles was frozen, in
others it was rather slippery. I went over in the mud at one point. It was a
shame that my wellies leaked. I shall have to get some new ones. Ones that fit…
Geocache-wise…
it was an odd walk. Usually when we go out hunting Tupperware the caches are
numbered. We start at number one, and have a guided tour. There used to be a
numbered series round Blean Woods, but the chap who’d hidden it had realised
that there was a lot of space for more geocaches, so he de-numbered the series
that was there, stuck out a load of new caches, and has taken the line that
people can make their own routes. Whilst this isn’t what usually happens when
one hunts Tupperware, it isn’t entirely unprecedented. There are a load of
caches in Bedgebury pinetum arranged in this way. Having to actually think
about planning our route made for a different walk, and we did find ourselves
stomping through undergrowth and bushwhacking rather a lot today.
And we did
have a twenty minute hiatus when Treacle ran off with one of the geocaches and
flatly refused to return it.
Usually we’d
have a crafty pint after a walk. But the dogs were filthy. We came home (Pogo
wasn’t travel-sick at all) and once the dogs were bathed we had a bit of
dinner. It was rather good; it usually is.
"er indoors TM" then went bowling
as she does. In between doing some washing I watched a couple of episodes of “Prison Break”. Just as things are beginning
to get going, the star seems to have croaked. Still, dropping dead is rarely an
impediment on most TV shows…
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