Perhaps I overdid the gardening yesterday? I rather
ached when I got up this morning. I put a load of washing on, made toast and
watched another episode of “The Other One”, then had my usual rummage
round the Internet as I do. It was rather dull this morning.
I munzed and wordled until everyone else got up.
I hung out the washing and we went to the woods. As we
drove Cyndi Lauper was on “Desert Island Discs”. She had a rather
strange accent, and chose some rather odd classical music. Seriously?
We got to the woods, and unlike yesterday today wasn’t
uneventful. In the depths of the woods we met some normal people with a
Dalmatian. On seeing us from a hundred yards away the woman stared screaming “ohmygod
ohmygod ohmygod”, got her dog onto a lead, and they all marched into a
thicket of brambles shouting apologies at us as we passed. I have no idea what
they were apologising for. Morgan looked at the woman with utter contempt,
Bailey and Treacle ignored them, and the Dalmatian just looked embarrassed.
We waked a different route to yesterday’s. We saw deer,
but I’d forgotten that we would walk past where I buried that deer bone last
week. Bailey hadn’t. She disappeared for a few seconds and came running up the
path with it in her mouth. As she chomped on it she snarled at the other two
dogs when they came close. I eventually got the bone off of her and put it up a
tree where they couldn’t get it… forgetting that Treacle is an accomplished
tree climber.
Morgan and Bailey then mobbed Treacle trying to get
the bone from her. I wasn’t that bothered about Treacle having the bone; she
just shows off with something like that. Suddenly I realised that the little
two weren’t trying to get the bone anymore. They had found a deer skull and
were biting lumps off of that.
Eventually I got the bones off of the dogs and stashed
them up a tree that Treacle couldn’t climb. And then Bailey found the dead frog
I’d taken off of her last week. She ate most of that.
I
took a few photos of dogs eating that which they shouldn’t.
As we walked we met a load of schoolkids out with
their teacher and I had flashbacks. Back in the day I hated games afternoon at
school. One afternoon a week was devoted to sports. The lads in our year were
divided into five sets. Set One had all
the kids who were bound to be picked for the various school sports teams and
the kids who did athletics at county level. Set Two was the kids with a better
than even chance of being picked for school sports teams and would be in the
House sports teams. I was in Set Five with the halt and the lame and the other
fat kids. But after a while the sports master “Killer” Smith realised
there were two distinct groups of children in Set Five. There were those who
wanted to do the sports but weren’t any good, and there were those who were
utterly disinterested. Those of us who were utterly disinterested were demoted
into the newly-formed Set Six and set out for walks in the countryside with the
Latin teacher. The theory was that if we went for a walk we would actually move
more than if we were forced to be on a football pitch where we just stood and
chatted.
As those kids walked with their mates chatting I
remembered walking in the countryside with other kids who shared my total
disdain for sports. But rather than being the punishment that “Killer”
Smith had intended it to be, we all loved our country walks. I think it is
those afternoons wandering the footpaths of East Sussex that started my love of
walking.
As we came toward the end of our walk we met a couple
of familiar faces. People were out geocaching on the series we set a month ago.
We chatted for a bit, and talking of geocaching, rather than heading home we
went off to find one ourselves.
If you log a “Found It” on a puzzle cache this
weekend you get a souvenir on account of today being Pi-Day (3-14). It
only really works if you write dates the American way, but there it is.
We drove up to Faversham where we failed to find two
caches before finally being able to say “found it” on a third. Those two
DNFs put us over an hour behind schedule.
Once home the two that had rolled in fox poo had a
scrub. I made myself some toast, then went into the garden. I potted those
pansies and polyanthus that I’d bought the other day. I put weed-proof membrane
and chippings onto the plant I’d re-potted yesterday. I dug the dead peony out
of its pot and replaced it with the Helleborus.
I had intended to set about the ironing, but by then I
was all in. I made myself another cuppa and wrote up some
CPD. Dull, but has to be done. A bit like ironing I
suppose. I’ll do that next week.
“er indoors TM” boiled up
cheeseburgers. They were rather good. I think the two months past its best brie
had a lot to do with it. That brie went well with half a bottle of port.
I suspect I shall be farting like a thing possessed later,
but what with deer bones and dead frogs I shall be in good company.
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