Over brekkie I had a look at the Internet as I do. It was
still there, and for once was relatively dull. I munzed and wordled and got
dressed.
With the rain having stopped I took the dogs out for a
walk. As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the Paedophile Information
Exchange; a rather scary group of kiddy-fiddlers who operated quite
openly about fifty years ago. They openly campaigned to abolish the age of
consent and were generally not the sort of people you’d like to have anywhere
near your family. Apparently there was a written list of the names and
addresses of their members which was in the possession of the police in 1983,
but nothing was done with it.
The show made for interesting listening. What do you do if
you’ve got a list of paedos? Go and arrest someone because their name is on a
list ;even though they might be completely innocent and just had their name
written on that list by someone who hates them?
The people making the show tried to track down members of
the police team that were investigating this. Apparently they weren’t easy to
find. One was found who’d retired to Alaska in 2006. He said that the copper in
charge of the team had died of cancer in the mid-eighties and claimed that when
this chap died, all the investigating died with him.
We got to the woods. The pants we’d found last week were
still hanging on the footpath sign where I’d hung them last week.
We walked our usual route. About two thirds of the way
round I heard a rustling and a herd of about twenty small deer ran across the
footpath; not ten yards in front of us. But they were fast. By the time I’d
pulled my phone out of my pocket they were gone. And then I heard what had
spooked them; two women shrieking at each other. A little while later we saw
them. Riding side by side on horseback but bellowing as though they were a
hundred yards apart. Why do people feel the need to be so loud?
Yesterday we walked a mile and a half round Orlestone and
burned a hundred and forty calories. Today’s almost four miles round Kings Wood
shifted six hundred.
We came home for a bath. Bailey had found some fox poo, and
everyone had grubby paws and tummies.
I then went into the garden. Having done some serious
brain-straining with Gordon over the last week we’ve got the final locations of
a series of geocaches… but they are all a long way up various trees. To get at
them we need ten-metre poles. I had this genius idea that the poles we used to
use for banners at kite festivals might do, so I dug deep into the lock-up in
the garden only to find the longest poles we had were only six metres long.
Not ten.
I sulked.
Whilst I sulked, now we’ve got leccie to the shed again I
got the drill out and tightened up the bird feeder I built the other day. And
then tidied the shed a bit and went on a tip run.
Once home I spent seemingly an age on Amazon and eBay
looking at ten-metre poles. Hopefully one will arrive early next week.
And I had a phone call from the One You people. The
occupational Health people at work suggested I contact One You about weight
loss and blood pressure issues. Some woman who was obviously reading from a
script suggested I might try to go on a diet to lose weight. I told her that
over the years I’ve tried every diet there is. I told her that I was currently
calorie counting and watching what I eat and have cut out all the sweeties. It
was quite plain that I was already doing everything she could offer, and said I
should contact my GP and ask for a tier three weight management program.
I’ll ask about that when I have my appointment in a week or
so.
And as a load of washing got scrubbed, “er indoors TM” boiled
up another good dinner which we scoffed whilst watching episodes of “Junior
Bake Off”. Am I being sexist in being surprised at how few girls are in it?
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