There was quite some
storm last night. I spent much of it listening out for "Furry
Face TM". On the one hand I was worrying
about how he would react. On the other I've heard that it's best not
to fuss dogs during storms or they get the idea something is wrong. I
needn't have worried. "Furry Face TM"
slept through it. Unlike most of humanity if the morning's reports on
Facebook are anything to go by.
"Daddies Little
Angel TM" arrived and wasn’t happy. Sid
has had the thumbs-down from the vets. He’s officially a porker and
needs to lose weight. Bless him. Lisa then arrived and we all set
off. "Daddies Little Angel TM" and
Sid were dropped off on the way to visit Sarge – the Jack Russell
who “bakes a moist sponge and is good with colours”. Lisa
and I went on to take Fudge for a walk. First of all round Westwell
to check that her series of geocaches were all well. They were. We
then went on into Hoads Wood for one last check. It was here that the
heavens opened. We got soaked. We were all dripping when we got back
to the car. But as we were already wet we thought we’d continue. Up
into Charing where we walked along the North Downs way for a little
bit. We found three geocaches and a wasps nest. Unfortunately I got
to claim ”smug mode” on the wasps nest. When geocaching one often
rams one’s hand into all sorts of crevices. Perhaps I’ve got too
blasé about doing so. I got stung off of a wasp.
By the time I’d got
soaked by ferns (which were seven feet high), and stung, and
marched up and down the North Downs we decided to call it a day. So
we went home. "Daddies Little Angel TM"
was fast asleep on the sofa. I kicked her awake and sent her to bed,
had a shower, and watched some DVDs. And then I checked my emails.
Oh dear…
Regular readers of this
drivel may realise that I regularly go on walks of series of
geocaches. Such walks often have their distances published. I’ve
commented from time to time that these published distances are
usually seriously underestimated. I made such a comment about one
such cache series in this blog a little while ago and the person who
owns those caches has taken offence. Those in our party with hand
held GPS units measured the walk in question as being just under nine
miles. Two independent measurements made as we did the walk came up
with that figure. However I have been told (rather rudely) by the
person hiding those caches that the actual distance was just over six
miles (as measured on a map from the comfort of someone’s living
room). Furthermore I have been challenged to provide details of
our exact route to explain how we came up with such a clearly
inaccurate figure (!)
I don’t mind people
taking issue with what I’ve written. I welcome people commenting
and challenging. If nothing else it shows me that someone’s
actually reading this drivel. However there is a world of difference
between a tone which implies “I disagree with you for the
following reasons…” and one which all but says “you’re
wrong dogbreath, sort it out!”
I found this little
episode rather vexing as it was from the same person who doesn’t
respond to my emails about problems with their caches, and who feels
I am wrong to log trackables in a timely fashion.
I can just see where this
is going. I have responded politely, explaining that we took the
obvious route according to ordnance survey maps, but I just know that
was a waste of time. Some geocachers get very uppity when you dare to
suggest anything might be awry with co- ordinates or distances. I can
see I am going to be formally ordered to amend logs or blogs or face
log deletion.
I might as well start
amending the logs in question now.
I like geocaching. It’s
a fun walk in the countryside. But the administrative recording of
what you’ve done is nothing but hard work. Whatever you write as a
log is wrong. If you don’t write enough, people complain. If you
write too much, people whinge. If you don’t express ample amounts
of undying gratitude that someone has hidden a sandwich box in a
gorse bush you never hear the end of it. Up until now I have always
logged a standard platitude with a link to this blog. From now on it
will be “TFTC and be flipping happy you got that much!”
(to quote the Rear Admiral).
Whilst I was composing my
reply to my fellow aficionado of Tupperware, Fudge went mad. Last
Friday the recycling bin-men left our recycling bin whilst doing
every other one in the street. I was promised they would collect it
yesterday. They didn’t. They finally came back to day at 4.30pm,
emptied it, and left it blocking the pavement. When I took "Furry
Face TM" for a walk yesterday afternoon we
couldn’t get up the pavements in Christchurch Road because of the
abandoned garden waste bins.
Ashford council’s idea
to recycle more waste is very laudable, but the implementation is
leaving a lot to be desired.
Being Tuesday the clans
gathered - this time in Queen Street. A crafty pint, some badinage,
and then I dozed through an episode of Merlin. I like the Tuesday
night thing...
My hand is really swollen
now. That wasp sting didn't hurt much at the time.
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