23 August 2026 (Sunday) - Nonington, Geo-Meet

I had a bad night. My arm and shoulder were particularly painful. And when I went to the loo in the small hours I couldn’t find Bailey. She’s so small she tucks into the smallest of places.

I finally nodded off and was sparko when “er indoors ^TM” alarm went off at half past seven. I swore, and got up.

 

I put a load of washing in to scrub, made toast and fiddled about with my lap-top. I backed up a couple of weeks of photos (that I will never look at again). Back in the day photos were a big thing. We had to fart around buying film, and with only twenty-four shots on a reel of film we would be incredibly judicious about that which we would photograph. And then we had to take the film to the chemist and wait a few days to get the photos back.

Nowadays we have instant access to photos. Someone in America can see the picture of my dogs seconds after I took it. Sometimes we don’t realise just how amazing the technology is.

And sometimes the technology can be wanting. The blatant display of racial hatred that I reported to the Facebook feds the other day apparently didn’t breach their community standards. One lives and learns.

I had an email about a new virtual geocache – the one that “er indoors ^TM” set up at Bonnington on Thursday evening. I was rather cagey on here about what we’d been up to as some people have (in the past) tracked my movements following this diary just to get to be first on anything geocachical we might be creating.

The thing had gone live just after half past six this morning, and the first one to find it had been out at Bonnington at just about the time I was getting out of bed.

But for the most part this morning my Internet was crawling with adverts for goldfish bowls… ones that looked really pretty with a traditional Chinese diorama but on closer inspection were probably about a quarter of the size you would have thought they were.

 

I Munzed, Wordled from “place” to “olden” in three goes, and harvested an epic crop of dog turds from the garden. I’ve said it before, but you wouldn’t believe how much dung three small dogs can generate.

I hung out the washing, checked that I’d programmed “Hannah” properly (last time I didn’t – woops!), Meowdolku-ed, and we set off on today’s mission.

 

We drove down to Nonington where  we waked for three miles picking up half a dozen geocaches as we went. It was a shame that Bailey went rogue towards the end of our walk, but that’s what she does. And (in all honesty) wouldn’t we all given half a chance.

As we walked we found half a dozen geocaches. It was a rather good walk.

From there we drove out to Sollys who operate a bar and an ice-cream parlour. We passed on the ice-cream but had an elegant sufficiency of the beer in the company of some very good friends. There’s no denying that the afternoon got more and more vague as it wore on; it was as well that I took a few photos.

 

We came home. I slept most of the way. And most of the evening too…

22 August 2026 (Saturday) - Dog Club, Chartham, Ticket to Ride

 

I slept reasonably well… better than the night before. I got up, made toast and had my usual rummage round the Internet. I found myself laughing at a posting on one of the crackpot sites that Facebook thinks might interest me. Some religious nutter was banging on about the power of prayer. Someone else had pointed out that praying for something means that the one doing the praying had found a problem with God’s plan for the universe. And went on to say that if the prayers had been answered the God had admitted his plan was flawed in the first place. I stirred the pot a little by pointing out that the whole squabble was dependent on two unproven assumptions. Firstly that there actually is a God, and secondly that it listens to anything that we mere mortals might have to say. I know I shouldn’t engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent but the righteous wind me up sometimes.

 

I Munzed, and Wordled from “slate” through “drain” to “prawn”. As I did, Steve was on the radio doing the “Guess the Lyrics” competition. “Those were the times we had. Sharing the joy that we thought would last”. I had no idea at all. It was Forget Me Nots by Patrice Rushen. No? Me neither. Sometime I feel that my musical education is sadly lacking.

 

We drove round to Repton and Dog Club. Everyone seemed to have a good time. Treats were shared, chases chased, and mayhem generally ensued.

As we drove away so Steve was doing the Mystery Year competition on the radio. When did Paul McCartney leave the Beatles? ! thought it was 1969, but I was a year too early.

We drove out to Chartham. Earlier in the year we’d had a rather good little walk around Chartham and we went back today. We parked up, walked through the village, over the hill, and back to the car via country lanes and fields. As we walked we found a geocache… well we would, wouldn’t we?

 

With walk walked we took a circuitous route home. There’s a Forestry England wood not that far from Chartham. Would it be any good for hiding a series of geocaches? Well… Yes, it would. *If* hidden by someone else. For all that those woods aren’t *that* far away it isn’t an easy drive to get there.

 

We got home where we had a cuppa and a cold cross bun for lunch. I counted up the Dog Club takings. In a novel break with tradition the money in the pot came to a multiple of one pound fifty. It rarely does. With money counted I added enough to the total to cover our three and transferred that amount to the bank. That’s over a hundred quid in the last month, and a lot of people choose to pay directly by text message from their phones. The people who own the field we use do OK out of the Dog Club…

 

I spent an hour or so fighting with geo-puzzles, then after another hot (cold) cross bun I sat in the garden with “er indoors ^TM”. She did her crafting; I read my Kindle.

I then had a stroke of genius… What with there being a geo-meet tomorrow afternoon I thought we might have a small walk before the meet. I perused the map and after a little brain-straining I came up with a little walk. In theory it should be on a par with today’s walk. In practice we will find out tomorrow.

 

“er indoors ^TM” sorted a couple of plates of chicken and chips and we scoffed them whilst having a few rounds of “Ticket To Ride” on the Infinity Table. Can you believe I won – three games to two.

21 August 2026 (Friday) - Feeling Worn Out

I couldn’t sleep last night. Having laid awake for seemingly ages I gave up and got up at four o’clock. I made toast and watched the last part of the episode of “Stranger Things” that I started watching yesterday.

This was the last episode of the fourth season of the show and sadly we’ve got to the stage that so many shows reach. It happened with the “Aliens” franchise and “Game of Thrones” and “The Last Ship”. The writers have effectively ran out of ideas and so five minutes of plot was padded out with an hour’s gratuitous violence and seemingly endless tedious fight scenes.

There’s one more season to go; it might perk up. I shall keep going with it; if only to see where Kate Bush made her money.

 

I had a quick look at the Internet and was rather amazed. A Reform UK councillor has had the heave-ho from Reform UK HQ for the simple reason that he’s not actually a member of Reform UK. Not only was councillor Robert Hanson elected under the Reform banner in May, he was the Reform spokesperson for Adult Health and Social Care in Sheffield council.

He’s now carrying on, but as an independent.

I would have thought that actually being a member of said party was a pre-requisite for standing as a candidate for that political party. You can’t make this up, can you?

 

And then it was time to set off for work. Yesterday was supposedly a day off. We walked over five miles round the woods I, got loads done in the garden, did ironing, had a serious fight with my old lap-top, took the dogs out again, watched Star Trek… by the time I went to bed last night I’d covered seventeen thousand steps. And then I had maybe two hours sleep at most.

I went off to work hoping for a bit of a rest. As I left Ashford there was a surprising amount of people walking dogs who were themselves only wearing their pyjamas.

 

As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the radio were all a-twitter about Prince Harry who is leaving America and coming back to live in the UK. There was also talk about how he lost his court case against Associated Newspapers (when he claimed they hacked his phone). Did they? During the court case some of his allegations were just abandoned “without any apology or even acknowledgment”. 

The claims of Prince Harry and his co-defendants were thrown out of court in their entirety several weeks ago, and together with six of his mates (including Elton John) he's got to stump up about ten million quid in court costs. And to add insult to injury the payments are due and it would seem their insurance won't cover it. That speaks volumes, doesn't it? If Prince Harry can't afford a court of law, what hope for the rest of us?

 

I stopped off in Sainsburys to get a sandwich. that place is always good for attitude. Some spotty oik who was employed to fill the shelves was making no secret of what he thought about the paying customers which he clearly felt were getting in his way. I just laughed; others would have had ample opportunity to make a formal complaint. I wonder if anyone did?

 

I went in to the early shift, did what I had to, and came home. “er indoors ^TM” had suggested an evening’s walk so we went to Orlestone. The walk passed off rather uneventfully, but I did think that the smaller two (Bailey in particular) were rather more wilful than usual. They know who panders to them whereas I will just keep going.

We came home. I spent a little while struggling on the on-line shops. I got the seventh Adrian Mole book on CD for about a fifth of the price I paid for the sixth. But I just can’t find the eight (and final) book on either MP3 or something that I could convert to MP3. But I did find a website offering all the Harry Potter books on MP3 for less than twenty quid the lot. Just like my seventh Adrian Mole CDs this is a rather good bargain *if* it arrives.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching more episodes of “Celebrity Hunted”. It’s a rather good show, but realistically it’s just “Hunted” when you’ve only ever heard of one of the twelve so-called celebrities.

 

I’m rather worn out… and it’s hossing down outside.

 

20 August 2026 (Thursday) - A Busy Day Off

I slept well. I got up to see there had been more rain overnight. That was something of a result. I made toast and had a look at Facebook as I do. It was still there and much the same as ever. Lies, disinformation and blather persisted as it always does. When you think that I’ve got over seven hundred people on my Facebook list I see posts from maybe twenty of them. Pretty much everything I see is either “you might be interested in” (which I never am) or adverts for small businesses hundreds of miles away.

But it keeps me occupied in the mornings.

I had an email. My car insurance was due. Thirty quid less than it was last year. I saw that as a result and snapped it up. Last year it went up and I wasted a morning shopping about only to find I couldn’t get it cheaper anywhere else.

 

I took the dogs out. Over the last few days with time pressing we’d been to Orlestone. We can put the leads on, go to Orlestone and be back home drinking our cuppa in just over an hour. Kings Wood is a shade under three hours if the traffic is good, but we had the time to spare today, so that’s where we went.

As we walked we met two other groups of dog walkers. One was chatty, one was not. We chased a few squirrels, we didn’t roll in anything… or anything that stained anyway.

 

We came home and had that cuppa two hours and fifty minutes after we’d set off. I Munzed, and Wordled. Google said the best starting word to use in Wordle was “slate”. It lied. It didn’t give me a single letter at all. So I tried again with “bruin” (as I couldn’t think of any other word). And then it was serious brain straining. “Rough” didn’t help me any more. “Furry” was a step in the right direction, and I got it on the fifth go with “murky”. As I’d Wordled so we had a torrential rain shower, but it went as quickly as it came so I decided to crack on in the garden.

 

Before I started I put a load of washing in to scrub. I then cleaned out the pond filter. I lined the two planters we got on Sunday, filled them with compost and potted the lilac and the thing we got from “My Boy ^TM” (must find out what that is). I weeded the pots. I planted the violas we bought on Sunday. I pootled and tidied. I voomed round with the bionic burner. The bionic burner is a rather good gadget. It’s not as good as the adverts claim: it doesn’t “permanently eliminate weed roots from the ground” but it certainly gets rid of the weeds for longer than just pulling them out by hand does.

 

“er indoors ^TM” returned from a shopping mission. Whilst out she got me a pressie – a bag of wild rocket. Ostensibly a salad condiment; I’ve chucked it into a floating pot in the pond. The water cress is doing famously, so the rocket might. Or might not. Time will tell; it always does.

 

I had some sausage rolls (with mustard – oh yus!) for lunch then set about ironing my shirts. They always iron better when still wet from the washing machine.

And then I tried to spark up my old lap-top. I’d spent an age trying to get the later Adrian Mole books on MP3. And failed. All I could find was audibles and spotifys and things which seem to depend on a decent internet connection, and my car doesn’t have one. So I got the sixth book on CD and thought I could copy them like I did the other week.

My old lap-top flatly refused to work. It spent two hours trying to do an update. Eventually I lost patience with it, and despite the warnings I pulled its plug. It then allowed me to log in… but that was as far as it would go. Oh, I got cross with it.

After a lot of stress I pulled its plug and we took the dogs to the marsh for a little outing then on our return I sparked up the old lap-top again. This time it worked fine and happily turned my new CDs into MP3s.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up fajitas and we scoffed them whilst watching this week’s episode of “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds”. It was a rather good episode. One of the best, I expect most of the fans will hate it…

 

19 August 2026 (Wednesday) - Another Late Shift, Rain

“er indoors ^TM” ‘s alarm woke me at quarter past seven. It didn’t wake her, but such is life.

I got up, made toast and had my usual rummage round the Internet. My American friends were posting tornado warnings. That’s one thing we don’t have to worry about (yet).

There was a lot of political posting this morning following Reform UK’s announcement that they want to do away with a lot of the disability benefits. One of the Clacton Reform UK supporters had clearly scored an own goal whilst a Cornish Reform UK councillor has resigned saying “I cannot in good conscience support the Making Welfare Work policy. These changes will cost lives of people especially those who have suicidal ideation.”

 

The trouble with our political system is that any given party will have one policy which attracts support. And it is human nature that having announced that they like this policy and consequently support a particular party, a worrying amount of people will automatically hate anyone who supports a different party and will follow their chosen party through thick and thin regardless of what their policies actually are.

Having been taken in by the pledges to send them all back on the next banana boat, and to be a viable alternative to the old two-party system. many Reform UK supporters with whom I’ve spoken have been totally unaware that many of their politicians are from immigrant families and/or are ex-Conservative politicians. That *certainly* wasn’t what they wanted.

I’m reminded of a woman with who I worked for many years who was very active in the local Conservative party. She delivered leaflets for them at election time, she made the tea at party meetings… in conversation she spouted pure Labour party propaganda. She didn’t believe in a single Conservative policy. But she had no idea what Conservative policies were. Forty years previously her father had said that she was a “True Blue” and on the strength of that she became a life-long Conservative voter and activist (even though she disagreed with everything the party stood for).

 

I took the dogs out for our walk. As we drove toward Orlestone the pundits on the radio were talking about the use of drones in warfare. It would seem that they are being controlled by AI and/or children and consequently not very specific in their targeting. And as is always the case it is the innocent bystanders that suffer. As Oliver Hardy once remarked, “twas ever thus”.

 

We got to the woods. We were half an hour earlier than yesterday and the car park was much busier. There was one idiot sitting in his car with the window open who was shouting a running commentary of all that was happening. “The red car has driven off. Here’s the man with three dogs, there’s a squirrel…”.

His wife gave me an embarrassed smile as we walked past.

As we walked we met a young family making a shelter in the woods. It was the sort of thing I used to do with the cubs back in the day. Sadly at four years old the kids were a bit too small and a bit disinterested, but Dad was getting stuck in.

And then we met a chap (about ten years older than me) with his dog, quite openly puffing on a spliff. He was friendly enough (he would be; puffing on that), but the stink of cannabis was overpowering. That stuff stinks.

And we walked the entire two miles in the rain. Light rain, but rain nonetheless. Not counting the sprinkling in the small hours of Sunday night that was the first rain I’ve seen since we got soaked when on holiday over two months ago.

 

We came home. I made us a cuppa. I tried to Munz, but the servers were down. I Wordled from “drove” to “grill”; getting it on the sixth and final go. I wrote up more CPD. Dull, but it has to be done

 

The earlier drizzle had seriously picked up and it was hossing down as I set off to work. The motorway was rather busy, and rather dangerous. Are the European lorries indestructible? They certainly drive as though they are.

 

Again I stopped off in Sainsburys to get lunch and saw a sign of the times. Today Sainsburys was awash with mothers taking their children shopping, many of which were clearly well into their teens; much taller than their mothers. All of them either looking bored to tears or arguing with their mothers

I found myself remembering some of the cubs' mothers who used to say that cubs was a two-hour break for them. Apart from school and cubs, the children were never let out of their mothers' sight. When I suggested letting them have some freedom the mothers looked at me as though I was mad.

When I was a lad, once I got to about eight years old I would spend the summer holidays out and about with my mates. Fishing, swimming, roaming the woods... wherever we wanted to go and doing whatever we wanted to do. And the fruits of my loin used to do their own thing too.

I would have gone stir-crazy if I had been constantly saddled with my mum when I was younger...

 

Work was work. It was certainly easier than yesterday's late shift had been, but I was still glad to see the night shift arrive.

I drove home listening to more Adrian Mole on the MP3. His mother was doing the dirty deed with Pandora’s father. The beasts…

18 August 2026 (Tuesday) - Late Shift

I slept for six hours until the pain in my shoulder got too much. I got up and fiddled about until the pain eased off when I went back to bed for another couple of hours.

There was a minor episode over brekkie – the margarine looked as though something had blown up in it. “er indoors ^TM” said it wasn’t her (it was!), and as I scoffed toast so she staged an impromptu dog ear cleaning session. The dogs weren’t happy about having their lugs scrubbed, and sulked as I peered into the Internet. It was much the same as ever. Petty bickering and open displays of ignorance abounded. I really shouldn’t look at it every morning, but if nothing else it reminds me of just how stupid some people are. For example, do people *seriously* expect change out of a hundred quid when calling out an emergency plumber at midnight?

 

I Munzed, and Wordled from “minor” to “strip” in four goes whilst “er indoors ^TM” tried to get Bailey to eat her brekkie. She’s a fussy little dog, and things aren’t helped by Treacle trying to bully her off of every bit of food she’s given.

And then we went to the woods.

 

As we drove the pundits on the radio were a bit twitching about the Russian embassy in London’s announcement that “UK 'will pay' for supplying drones to Ukraine”. I can’t see how anyone can be surprised about that. If a country has no weapons to fight a war, giving them weapons is pretty much the same as fighting the war for them. Isn’t it?

Not having as much time as I’d like we went to Orlestone today. We can go there, walk round and be home all in an hour. Kings Wood takes about two and a half hours. We got to the woods to find only one other car in the car park. Apart from chasing a couple of squirrels the walk was rather uneventful. We saw no-one else, no one rolled in nothing. All rather tranquil for once.

 

We came home. I made us both a cuppa and had a go on the blood transfusion simulator. I got the exercise wrong in that you have to remember how the simulator works, and not how blood transfusions work. A subtle difference…

I then went onto the haemostasis on-lie academy and did one of the little courses on there. I passed that one.

I then phoned the local hospital. When I saw the ENT chap in April he said he would arrange some hearing tests to sort out this ongoing tinnitus. Four months have passed… I phoned three different numbers and just went round in circles. After half an hour I gave up and emailed a formal complaint. In the past I’ve only ever got anywhere by making formal complaints. The ENT chap is really good… *if* you can get an appointment to see him.

 

And then it was time to go to work. I drove up the motorway. The motorway. Not the dual carriageway it has been for weeks.  The "Operation Brock" stupidity has been cancelled (and the motorway re-opened) earlier than planned. Bearing in mind that this has been done a couple of weeks before the busy bank holiday, you really have to ask why the thing was activated in the first place, don't you?

The trouble with "Operation Brock" is that it is brought into play (and shut down) by the Kent Resilience Forum.

The official position of the Kent Resilience Forum is that "it is an operationally independent multi-agency partnership functioning under the Civil Contingencies Act 2004, where individual member organizations remain accountable to their own governing bodies, chief officers, and respective central government department". Which means that it wasn't really thought out in the first place, and now it exists, it effectively answers to no one.  Nice work if you can get it.

 

I got some petrol. Today it was six pence per litre cheaper than Ashford. And then went into Sainsburys to get a sandwich. Oh, my piss boiled. Why can't people see that there's dozens of other people in the shop with them? So many of them were just blundering about; totally oblivious of their surroundings and with no care or consideration for anyone else.

I got my sandwich and went to work. It wasn't a bad late shift really.

 

As I did my bit I got a text message. there were reports of a gang of teenagers in Viccie Park, armed with catapults. No one seemed to know what (if anything) they were catapulting at, but the police had been informed. I really can't help but think that a judicious slap and having the brat watch its catapult being destroyed would go a long way to curing the problem. If indeed there is one. 

 

It was dark as I came home... I suppose it should be really. The longest day was two months ago.

17 August 2026 (Monday) - After the Night Shift

Last Saturday when I went to bed my watch told me I’d walked three and a half thousand steps. This morning when I walked out of the night shift my watch told me I’d walked over five thousand steps since midnight. There’s no denying that I’d hoped a Sunday night would have been a quiet shift. Back in the day when I first started night work we’d rarely be called on more than half a dozen times. Last night I had over fifty samples to deal with.

 

As I drove home the pundits on the radio were talking about the new Prime Minister who (so it was claimed) had been taken in by a fraudster who had been pretending to be a senior member of the American government. Apparently only a couple of text messages were exchanged before he wised up to what was going on, but the fact that this was in the news was rather significant. A couple of weeks ago the new Prime Minister was being portrayed as the saviour of the universe. Now he’s fair game for digging the dirt.

The honeymoon period is clearly over.

I got bored with the news, and listened to my Adrian Mole MP3 audiobook instead. In the past I’ve been very scathing about audiobooks, but am I turning to the dark side?

 

I got home. For all that the temperature is down on what it has been over the last week, it was forecast to be warm later so I took the dogs out right away. It was only a short drive to Orlestone.

Just lately our walks have been “fox-poo-free”… well, to be precise, probably only seemingly “fox-poo-free”. I suspect that there had been some rolling going on, but what with everything having been so hot and bone dry all the fox turds had been baked dry. However last night there had been rain. Quite a bit of it. And that had rehydrated the fox turds, as evidenced by the frankly massive skid mark that Bailey got up her back within five minutes of getting to the woods.

We walked for two miles and saw two other groups. Morgan grumbled at them; I wish he wouldn’t.

 

We came home. Once Bailey had had a bath (with soap!) I had a shave and a shower and went to bed. Morgan and Bailey came with me. I rather suspected that they’d come up for a fight, but both settled and we slept for four hours. That’s not a bad sleep after a night shift.

 

Eventually the ongoing pain in my arm woke me. About a month ago I whinged about my arm. There’s an almost constant sensation of numbness/tingling/pins and needles in my left hand, and an intermittent sensation of pain in my upper left arm and shoulder. So I went onto the doctor’s website and filled in the on-line questionnaire in the hope that someone might get back to me about it.

Whilst I was at it I had a look at the Internet as I do. A Facebook friend was having a birthday today. The chap used to live just down the road from me when I was at primary school. We lost contact years ago but got in touch through Facebook. We actually met a few years ago when he wanted details of my father’s funeral which was a kind thought.

 

I Munzed (having Wordled at three o’clock this morning), and we did “FEED THE FISH”. Again little Treacle squealed in excitement when I made the announcement. I then voomed round the garden with the watering can, and then my phone beeped. The doctor wants to see me… well specifically wants to see my left arm. They sent me a link to book an appointment. I had the choice of one date (in two weeks’ time). I’m not sure why I had to mess about going through the website if I only had the choice of one date, but I’m now booked in for a fortnight on Thursday.

I wrote up some CPD. I thought about cleaning pond filters (Monday is usually pond filter day) but by then it was nearly five o’clock. The pond will keep for a day or so.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up pie and chips and went bowling. I settled in front of the telly and watched an episode of “Stranger Things”. At an hour and a half it was too long; the next episode plays for over two hours. Apparently the writers felt that movie-length episodes allowed them to tell a better story. Maybe it did, but I’m not sitting still for over two hours. I shall watch that next episode in (at least) three separate sittings.