16 March 2026 (Monday) - New Computer, Dead Squirrel

I was up far too early this morning. I stood on the scales… my weight is slowly creeping up again. Back to calorie counting I suppose.

I made toast and coffee and watched another episode of “Pride and Prejudice” in which Miss Elizabeth Bennett commented “The more I see of the world the more I am dissatisfied with it”. She’s probably got a point.

I then had a quick look at the Internet. It was still there. There were one or two things posted from friends and one or two snippets from groups and pages I follow, but more and more I find my Facebook feed to be filled with adverts about stuff in which I have absolutely no interest whatsoever.

I had a quick Munz, then got ready for work.

 

I drove round to the co-op to get a sandwich. Their meal deal is twenty pence cheaper than Sainsbury's, but the selection is rather poorer. I shall go to Sainsbury's next time.

As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the radio were interviewing a retired general about he situation in the Middle East. Apparently President Trump is demanding that his NATO allies should get involved in the war he's started, and is threatening dire consequences for anyone who doesn't help him out. The general being interviewed seemed to be of the opinion that he would be surprised if anyone would help Trump out. NATO is supposed to be all about mutual defence; not jumping in to help so-called allies who've unilaterally picked a fight of their own making and found that they've bitten off more than they can chew.

And there was talk about oil theft... with the price of oil going through the roof it would seem that anyone who heats their house using oil is at risk of having organised gangs turning up and nicking the stuff.

 

I got to work. I wasn't supposed to be in today, but I'd offered to do extra hours this morning to help out testing the new computer system that we are getting in a few months' time. It didn't help that the chap who was going to show me what was what with the new system was off sick, so. I had a Teams session with one of the IT people from Dartford instead. I’ve got to grips with how the system works. Sort of. I’m having another go tomorrow.

 

I came home and took the dogs to the woods. We got to the car park at Kings Wood just before two o’clock to find there wasn’t any other cars in the car park.

We walked for just over four miles according to my phone. According to my watch it was just under five miles. Treacle found a dead squirrel in the first hundred yards and carried it the whole way. Bailey found some fox poo, and I went base over apex in the mud. No harm done, but I need to be a tad more careful. It won’t be that long before I will be too old to have falls.

Today’s route took us past a geocache of mine that two people had reported that they couldn’t find. I found it - the cache was clearly there…

 

We came home. Mud was washed from bellies, fox poo was washed from backs. We fed the fish, and I then made a cuppa for “er indoors ^TM” and me, and did us a slice of coffee and walnut cake each too. I put a load of washing in to scrub and had a little doze, then “er indoors ^TM” went bowling and I watched more “Pride and Prejudice” in which Mr Wickham meddled with tradesmen’s daughters.

 

I’m quite worn out…

15 March 2026 (Sunday) - Geo-Meet, Maidstone, Telly

I slept well, but woke just before seven o’clock with something of a guts ache. I lay there wondering if it was only a fart… I decided to take no chances and got up.

I made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do. It was much the same as it ever is.

 

Taking care not to disturb anyone I got dressed and once I’d scraped the ice off the car I drove up to Maidstone. There was a breakfast geo-meet today, and there are some geo-puzzles in the area which involve finding where a particular photos was taken. I thought I might have a little walk solving those puzzles before the meet.

As I drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing some Christians who live in a war zone somewhere or other. Rather than seeing the senseless violence and massacre as being tragic, these crackpots somehow thought it all evidence of their god’s love. How on Earth did that work?

I almost fell at the first hurdle when I got to Maidstone. The car park I found wasn’t a RingGo one. It was Apcoa which meant downloading and setting up their app. Back in the day you could just put some money into the machine. Nowadays everything has its own individual app, and you have to waste fifteen minutes setting up something you will never use again. I’ve seen RingGo everywhere; I’ve never seen Apcoa anywhere.

 

With car eventually parked I went for a little wander. I found three of the locations I was seeking and got the information I needed. Three eluded me though. I still need to find a ruined church, “the year of the bird” (?)  and a church with a square belfry with an odd turret on one side.

Feeling a bit peckish I thought I might go to where we were having the geo-meet and have brekkie before everyone else arrived. We were meeting in the local Wetherspoons…

Wetherspoons aren’t bad in that they are cheap and cheerful and you know what you are getting… Well… let me rephrase that.

Wetherspoons are bad.

OK, they are cheap (if far from cheerful), and you know what you are getting… You are getting ignored by the surly and disinterested schoolchildren who work there, and eventually you will get rather substandard food not so much served up by them as slapped down in front of you by them. It’s a sad look-out when they can’t fry an egg, isn’t it.

 

With a very poor massively over-priced brekkie scoffed everyone else arrived, and we had a rather good half an hour chatting. It seemed I missed a rather good walk round London on Friday…but with my mates having walked forty-five thousand steps I’m rather glad I hadn’t joined them.

It would have been good to have stayed longer, but I had to get home.

 

As I drove home,  heart surgeon Stephen Westaby was on Desert Island Discs. He was surprisingly interesting. Apparently he was a very quiet and shy chap until he sustained a serious head injury after which he was very loud and outgoing. Makes you think, doesn’t it?

He made a very interesting point about the surgical league tables that the government is so keen on. He doesn’t do that well on those league tables… because he’s doing open heart surgery on patients who are critically ill. Comparing him with someone who specialises in ingrowing toenails is hardly fair, is it?

 

I got home and “er indoors ^TM” went out to a Mother’s Day bash with “My Boy ^TM” and his tribe. I took the dogs out. Bearing in mind how many normal people had been swarming round Scadbury Park yesterday I decided against Kings Wood today. Instead we walked round the block. One of my Wherigos had a “did not find” reported last week. We walked round to it and saw it was where it was supposed to be.

 

We came home, and once I’d been round the garden with a bucket gathering turds I got the lawn mower out. After two minutes I turned the lawn mower off and went and got the turd bucket again. I started mowing; I went and got the turd bucket again. You’d be amazed at how much dung three small dogs can generate.

 

I made myself a cuppa, then had a look at the clues I’d gathered whilst walking round Maidstone earlier. I came up with some locations which look sensible on Google street view… 

I Munzed, then Wordled. “Music” gave me nothing, but amazingly “trade” gave me four correct letters in the correct places, and so with only one possibility I got it on the third attempt with “grade”.

I then settled underneath a pile of dogs and watched a couple of episodes of “Pride and Prejudice” until five past three. That was when ChatGPT said that I could again ask it to make some pictures. I got it to make more dog pictures. I’ve made quite a few of these… I wonder when the novelty will wear off.

 

“er indoors ^TM” came home with left-over dinner meat for the dogs and a chocolate éclair for me. Result all round. She sorted a pizza for tea and we watched more of the TV show about Jon Richardson helping to restore a derelict pub in Yorkshire.

For all that there’s a massive fundraising campaign to do the place up, and loads of people volunteering to help, I can’t help wonder why the place closed. The answer has to be something I’m forever ranting about…

Out of interest I’ve done some sums…

The village where Jon Richardson’s pub is in has (about) one hundred and sixty-six residents.

Last year (2025) the average UK pub (that didn’t go bust) had a turnover of ten thousand pounds per week.

So either everyone in the village needs to spend sixty quid a week in the pub or they need to get loads of tourists in. But look on a map – the place is miles from anywhere.

I wish them well…

14 March 2026 (Saturday) - Scadbury Park

I woke shortly after at four o’clock in a cold sweat following a nightmare in which I’d been seconded to take over the medical laboratory at my old primary school which wasn’t making a profit. I wasn’t at all sure that anyone could make a profit by performing blood tests (for free) on small children, but what do I know?

 

I got up at seven o’clock, made toast and had a look at the Internet. It was still there, and was much the same as ever. This morning the political squabbles were rather bitter as people who are staunch Reform and Conservative supporters were now dead against the war in the Middle East which only a few days ago they’d been supporting. The reason for their change of heart? – the leaders of their chosen political partes had changed their minds. Politics winds me up. So many people choose a political party and then go along with what that party says rather than forming an opinion of their own.

I saw my brother was off to see the football. Having driven to Brighton to get on the coach at some silly hour he was on his way to Sunderland.

I Munzed, got Wordle (ankle) on the fifth attempt, and strained my brain as Steve did the “Guess the Lyrics” competition on the radio. “Baby baby, when I lay with you there’s no place I’d rather be”? No? It was “I Feel For You” by Chaka Khan. If it’s any consolation I had no idea either.

 

We drove round to Repton and Dog Club where I wasn’t happy to see that the people at the later sessions had forgotten to shift last week’s dog poo bag (again). But other than that we had a (mostly) good session. It was a shame that Bailey escaped, but apart from that, a couple of minor quarrels and some humping a good time was had by all.

It probably helped by having all the humans standing in the sun where it was warmer. For some reason we always seem to stand in the shadows.

 

From Dog Club we drove off for a little walk. AS we drove Steve was doing the Mystery Year competition on the radio. When did the SAS storm the QE2? 1972.

We listened to Steve as far as Leeds castle which was where the radio signal gave out. From there we listened to my MP3 player until we got to Sidcup and Scadbury park. There were geocaching souvenirs for finding fourteen puzzle geocaches today, and with eighteen in the park, Scadbury seemed to be the place to go to.

We’ve been there before (not that I can remember the place) and I would certainly go back… but perhaps not at the weekend. It was heaving with normal people. But for the most part they did their thing and we did ours. It was only a shame that we dropped Pogo’s lead and had to back-track a few hundred yards.

After a couple of hours we were back at the car. We’d had a good walk, and as a geocaching walk I can’t recommend it highly enough. About as many caches as it would be possible to get, mostly straightforward finds…

I took quite a few photos whilst we were out.

 

We took a little diversion on the way home to drop Pogo home after his little holiday. We met up with his mummy at the playpark where she was having some time with little Jake. Little Jake isn’t so little anymore; he’s taller than his grandmother. We’d not seen him for far too long, and after a little ice-breaker with the dogs today we will definitely meet up again. Soon.

We came home via Repton where I was pleased to see that the dog poo bag had gone. I don’t know who took it, and (in all honesty) I don’t much care. It has been sorted and so that is one less thing for me to do.

 

Once home we had a cuppa. I did the geo-admin to get the e-souvenirs, had the obligatory go on ChatGPT then went back out to my car. As we’d driven my car had whinged that the tyre pressures were low so I pumped them up. I’ve not done that for four months. Is that bad? I never used to pump up the tyres on previous cars. Partly because they never whinged at me about low tyre pressure, partly because no one else checks tyre pressures, but mostly because the nice man in the garage had told me that tyre pressures are a servicing thing. Was he wrong?

 

We had a little doze, then got the Infinity table out and played “Ticket to Ride” pretty much all the way around the world… we had a little drinkie or two as we played. It was all rather vague by the time the amaretto came out. I thought I had three bottles of the stuff,,, I could only find one,

13 March 2026 (Friday) - A Day's Leave

I slept far better than I thought I might; Pogo was quiet last night and didn’t starfish across the bed. He’s quite a lump and can take up space.

 

I smiled as I scoffed toast. The geo-feds have looked at my plans for the midsummer’s eve event and given it the thumbs-up. Because of the rules they can’t make the thing live for a week or so; apparently events can only be published three months or less in advance. Oh well… at least all is in order.

There was someone on one of the local Facebook groups asking for recommendations for a decent vet. This question comes up all the time, and every vet within twenty miles get praise and criticism. When looking for a vet people seem to forget two important points. Firstly vets are regularly inspected by the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons and the government and any which aren’t any good are closed down. And secondly vets aren’t the NHS which is free. They are businesses which aren’t. Sadly (like going to the pub) having a pet is fast becoming the province of those who can afford it.

Meanwhile a lost episode of Doctor Who has been found.

 

I Munzed – our Munzee Clan has reached the second of our monthly goals. I Wordled from “found” through “knave” and “renal” to “eaten” then had a minor sulk. I’d had the offer to go on a geocaching outing to London today. Originally I couldn’t get the day off but I asked on Tuesday and got the day off… but had forgotten about the geo-outing. By the time I remembered everyone else would have been on the train.

Ho hum…

 

I took the dogs out. As we drove to the woods Jessie Buckley was on Desert Island Discs. She sounded to be an interesting person… even though I’d never heard of her before.

We got to the woods and walked four miles. We saw some horses, but the dogs came back when called, and other than that the walk was completely uneventful. But it was a *lot* muddier than it had been yesterday; the overnight rain had seen to that.

We came home via the petrol station… bearing in mind all the doom and gloom on the news about petrol prices the stuff has only gone up by three pence per litre in the last week. Having said that, it will probably go through the roof now.

 

We came home for baths. Pogo had been good as gold up the woods, and whilst he was no trouble at bath time, the bath was definitely crowded with four dogs in it.

I made us both a cuppa and then spent a little while playing with ChatGPT again. It made a good cartoon of the dogs in the wood and of them playing in mud, but when it came to making pictures of them in the bath it duplicated the Morgan dog. I asked it to remove one of them and it removed both. It got it right on the third attempt, but with only getting five free pictures a day there’s very little scope for cock-up.

 

I spent a few minutes solving geo-puzzles, then had a little doze on the sofa and woke with a neck ache. I spent the afternoon (as I so often do) watching episodes of “Four In A Bed” in which (as so often happens) the most confident contestants ran an utter shambles of a place and came last.

I then announced that it was time to “FEED THE FISH”. The dogs always like that. Sadly when I came to top up the fish food I managed to spill bird seed everywhere, but it didn’t take that long to clear up.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up fish and chips which we scoffed whilst watching the latest episode of Danny Dyer’s Caravan Park. This week he organised the caravan park’s entertainment by wheeling on some showbiz pals of his. Any doubts I might have had about not wanting a caravan on Sheppey were firmly killed by watching his eighties night…

I’ve always fancied the idea of a caravan or a camper van… but it’s not practical and if the TV show is anything to go by I’m fast changing my mind.

12 March 2026 (Thursday) - Home Alone

With no alarm set I had a decent night. I slept through till nearly seven o’clock. I got up, made toast and had a look at the Internet. Last night I’d been looking at bottles of stout on Amazon; this morning my Facebook feed was filled with adverts for beer and posts from pub-related Facebook pages. It would seem that a pint of stout is over ten quid in some of the pubs in London. More and more, a pub is a luxury beyond the pockets of most people.

 

I took the dogs out. As we drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing some politician or other. The person and the topic of the interview were irrelevant as it just went the same way of every political interview. Something scandalous had happened, and some government minister agreed to go on national radio to be interviewed about the matter only to evade every question asked of them. Why go on the radio at all if all you are going to do is effectively make yourself and your chosen party look bad?

 

We got to the woods an hour earlier than usual and the car park was a lot busier than it is at nine o’clock. We set off on our walk and soon met two normal people having an argument. Their dogs were playing, but clearly these people didn’t know what dog play looked like, and both were shouting at the other to call their dog away. Morgan and Bailey joining in probably didn’t help matters at all, but they came away when I called them. We walked off leaving the normal people arguing and the dogs playing.

Apart from that, the walk was rather uneventful. We went round four and a bit miles and came back to the car when I noticed the fox poo smeared all up Bailey’s back. Up to that point I’d hoped we might not have needed a bath when we got home.

 

We came home and had that bath. I put a load of washing in to scrub, made myself a cuppa and Munzed. Then I had a little look at Wordle. Bearing in mind the state Bailey had been in earlier I started with “turds” which gave me an “s” in the wrong place. Following on from that I tried “shite” which was a mistake as I already knew the “t” wasn’t there, but it told me where the “s” went. “Spell” got me almost there, and “smell” did the trick.

We then had a minor commotion as “My Boy ^TM” came to visit. He returned the pressure-washer he’d borrowed at the weekend and helped me take the shingle-patterned liner off of the pond’s bog filter. The stuff never looked right. I really want to get some sort of waterproof lino-type stuff with a dark rock pattern, but I just can’t find any.

 

I played with ChatGPT some more, and wrote up some CPD until the washing machine finished. I ironed shirts, then voomed round with the Hoover, dinged out the recycling, sorted out the event page for my planned midsummer’s eve picnic and generally tidied up. As I fiddled around I watched “Vladimir” on Netflix. It was a rather good show about a couple of aging university professors who had an “open marriage” in which they both carried on porking whoever they fancied. I found myself reminded of a chap with whom I used to work who could never keep it inside his trousers.

 

With the dogs snoring I loudly announced that I was going to “FEED THE FISH”. That caused some minor mayhem.

“er indoors ^TM” came home from a day at the office. Pogo came with her – he’s having a little holiday with us. We had a pasta bake for tea whilst watching the last episode of the current season of “Starfleet Academy”. There’s going to be another season next year; it’s got another chance…

As long as there’s been spin-offs of Star Trek (since the animated series in 1973) I’ve been whinging about those who don’t like the spin-offs… and here I am now one of those I used to whinge about.

11 March 2026 (Wednesday) - Another Early Shift

Again with an alarm set I had a rather bad night and was again up far too early. I made toast and started something new on Netflix. I’ve only seen the first episode, but “Vladimir” seems to be entertaining enough. Unlike many other shows the episodes are only half an hour long which stops my attention wandering.

I then had a little look at the Internet. There was consternation on one of the geocaching pages as the people at geo-HQ have finally realised that there is software you can use to make your phone think you are half-way across the world and so allows you to cheat at a location-based game. And having realised this they are making moves to stop people cheating. Moves than an IT-proficient company would have made year ago. It never fails to amaze me just how IT-illiterate geocaching is when you bear in mind just how high-tech the hobby would seem to be.

 

As I'd watched telly I'd heard the rain on the window. The rain had pretty much stopped by the time I left home. I'd made a point of remembering where I'd parked last night and so knew where my car was. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the ongoing war in the Middle East. HMS Dragon has finally been dispatched but won't get there for a week. Apparently its role is to defend an RAF base which has already been bombed.

There was also talk about how the Iranians have closed the Strait of Hormuz even though Donald Trump says they can't, and if they try to he will kick ass.

Meanwhile the annual world watercress eating competition has been won for the seventeenth time by someone who can't stand the stuff.

 

I stopped off at Sainsburys to get a sandwich. In a novel break with tradition I got beef and horseradish rather than coronation chicken because the sign on the shelf said it was forty pence cheaper. It was a shame that the sign hadn't told the till. I thought about kicking off, but the staff there are troublesome at the best of times so I thought it best not to cause a fuss. On the plus side I got some tennis balls for Dog Club.

 

I went in to work and did my bit. During tea break I had a message from home; apparently Morgan had been caught chewing on a contact lens. We're not sure where he got it from; I find it best not to ask in those situations.

 

Another early start made for another early finish, and this evening I got home far faster than I did yesterday.

Once home I had a little kip until “er indoors ^TM” boiled up pie and chips which we scoffed whilst watching more “Motherland”. I’d forgotten that Debbie The Chosen One had played the “council mother”.

 

I’ve been on the go for eighteen hours… and I’ve done so little of note today.

10 March 2026 (Tuesday) - Early Shift

With an alarm set I didn’t sleep well. I woke before two o’clock and then dozed for fifteen minutes at a time at most. I gave up and got up at five o’clock and watched the last episode of “Everyone Else Burns” in which our heroes finally saw through the utter bollox that was the cult which had held them captive for years…

I suppose that show worked really well for me because I was once a religious crackpot; I wonder how everyone else related to it? I wonder what I might watch next?

I sparked up my lap-top and had a little look at the Internet. Not much had happened overnight so I got ready for work.

 

When we came home from the woods yesterday I'd managed to park outside the house, so I didn't have to walk the streets trying to find where I'd left the car this morning.

As I drove to work the pundits on the radio were talking about the ongoing war in the Middle East. Apparently Donald Trump made some speech yesterday which has calmed the markets and oil prices have dropped quite a bit from the prices they were at yesterday. Personally I find nothing that bloke says as being calming, but what do I know? The pundits on the radio were interviewing various windbags all of whom were predicting rising inflation and fuel prices... which is odd as yesterday's post brought a letter from the energy company saying my combined leccie and gas bill was going down by a tenner a month. And that was following me having had the heating on a lot more over the last few months because it was winter.

More and more I find myself utterly bemused by the world I'm in.

 

I stopped off in Sainsburys to get a sandwich. I eventually got one; some idiot was standing right in front of the fridge in everyone's way, and seemed to have gone into some sort of trance. He seemed to be genuinely surprised when he came to and saw half a dozen people waiting for him to get out of the way.

Again the tills were all closed. The miserable harridan who often glares at the people using the self-service tills wasn't there today, but there were a few members of staff (who could have been on the tills) laughing and joking with each other. Again I emptied a pocket full of loose change into the self-service machine, but it's not the same without the sour faced old bat so obviously taking offence at my doing so. It was only as I walked out that I remembered that I should have got some tennis balls for Dog Club.

I went into work where I had a rather busy day. Things started badly with a Red Alert (that's two this week and it is only Tuesday!), and the day just went on from there.

 

But an early start made for an early finish. “er indoors ^TM” boiled up a rather good chicken curry which we washed down with a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. A red bottle. I’ve had the white stuff before and not been impressed, but the red stuff was rather good. AS we scoffed and swilled we watched some episodes of “Motherland” which were rather good. We’re now watching episodes of “Clarkson’s Farm” which aren’t.