I was out like a light when “er indoors TM” and
the dogs bounded through the bedroom door at ten to two. That certainly woke me
up. I then dozed fitfully, finally giving up trying to sleep at half past five.
I had a go on the bathroom scales; another three pounds
lighter than last week. That’s a result.
I made toast and watched an episode of Netflix then had a
look at the Internet as I do every morning. It was rather dull today, but I
suppose that at six o’clock on a Bank Holiday morning it wasn’t going to be
much.
As I drove to work it was rather foggy. As I do I
Iistened to the morning news. This morning there was all sorts of talk about
the war in Ukraine which has recently had some
sort of a cease-fire. Apparently it was called by the
Russians who then didn't actually cease their firing. Or so the Ukrainians
claimed.
President Trump was on the radio saying both sides
should jack in the war and go into business with him; claiming that everyone would make a fortune.
Love him or loathe him, the fellow never fails to
amaze.
There was also talk about a government initiative to
get children to go out and play. Apparently kids hardly ever leave the house
these days. When I was a lad, me and my mates would roam for miles. Quite
literally miles. We'd be all over the local woods, and over the Firehills
having a great time climbing the cliffs at the beach and the sand quarry, and
playing on the railway tracks. We were never quite brave enough to walk the
three quarters of a mile length of the railway tunnel from Coghurst Woods to Broomgrove,
but we knew of those (some now on my Facebook friends list) who claimed they
had. Me - I once got fifty yards into the tunnel before chickening
out. The trick was to be prepared and bring a torch with you. It was (and
still is) a long tunnel.
There was some government type who was wheeled on to
the radio saying that part of the trouble is that a lot of playground stuff is
permanently broken. We rarely played on playgrounds. When we did it was to see
who could jump the furthest from the swings. Admittedly Paul Phillips did break
his arm falling off the slide, but he was the exception that proved the rule.
He wasn't in our gang anyway, so he didn't count.
But the biggest part of the problem would seem to be
that parents are scared of what might happen to their children if they are left
to their own devices. And quite rightly so if what I got up to was anything to
go by. Still, as I once told my mother, what she never knew never hurt her.
And being a religious holiday, the Pope had died. He was eighty-eight.
President Trump is only ten years younger.
Why do these people never take it easy in old age.
I did my bit at work. As I never tire of saying, I
don't mind working at weekends and Bank Holidays if the weather is grotty.
Sadly the early fog soon lifted and I spent much of the time looking out of the
blood bank window and sulking at a bright day.
It was still bright when I got home, so we took the dogs
out. Some of “er indoors TM” geocaches near Kingsnorth
had wet log sheets in them and needed sorting. Personally when we go geocaching
we message the hider of the caches before we go out asking if they would want
any wet log sheets replacing as we go. You can get ten log sheets from a sheet
of A4 paper, and you can get the stuff from Amazon for less than a penny a
sheet. However most people seem to prefer to whinge that log sheets are wet. By
no means everyone, but enough. And the less that anyone has contributed to the
hobby, the more they whinge.
Ho hum…
Whilst we were in the area we went and found a cache which
was sort-of fairly close to where we were. And when I came to log it I was
awarded a Treasure – a noise maker. That was a result… I suppose.
We came home. I put a load of washing in. When “er
indoors TM” returned from Aldi she boiled up some
rather good wagyu burgers which we scoffed whilst watching “Celebrity Bake
Off”.
I’m worn out – this Easter weekend has been rather full-on.
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