Being awake at 3.30am I
had this plan to get up, pootle about and then I might sleep after an
hour or so's pootling. So I watched a DVD. The last ever episode of
Blake's Seven. Blake came back. There are those who might feel that
he'd left it rather kate, but better late than never. Immediately on
meeting the first of his henchmen he handed said henchman to the
authorities, and when the rest of his gang showed up they killed him
before he could tell tham that he wasn't really a baddie. The whole
lot ended up as a bloodbath, which was probably for the best. I then
went back to my pit and lay awake before finallly emerging from that
pit shortly before 8am.
I would have made myself
comfortable on the sofa for brekkie, but my dog had made himself
comfortable. I didn't have the heart to move him, so I perched
precariously next to him and checked out what was going on in the
world via Facebook. It turned out that not a lot was happeneing.
So with some time spare I
put "Furry Face TM"'s collar and
lead on him and we went for a walk up to Little Burton Farm and back.
Probably a round trip of about four miles; it took us about an hour
and a half. Whilst we were out my dog rolled in two seperate piles of
fox poo and humped a King Charles spaniel. It's two weeks since he
was ill; he seems to be firmly on the mend.
Whilst we were out we met
so many members of Ashford's Nepalese community. At the risk of
sounding racist, are all Gurkhas terrifed of dogs? We always meet
Nepalese people when we walk. they are always polite, friendly, but
all of them always seem to cower away from Fudge and from every other
dog they see.
We came home, and I
bathed my dog. I wish he wouldn't roll in fox poo; it just adds ten
minutes bath time to the day's itinery. And then I couldn't beleive
my ears. With over twenty minutes to go before Lisa would be picking
us up, er indoors TM" announced that
she was ready. Early (!) That *never* happens.
And so on with the main
business of the day; the monthly meet-up of Kent's geocachers. Today
we met up at Halstead; a rather obscure village near Sevenoakes. The
meet was really good. I especially liked the mini ship selling
trackables and geo coins. The venue was excellent; a really friendly
pub with six ales on the hand pump. And the meet itself - -it was
good to meet up with old friends who share a predilection for hunting
tupperware in the woods. We even went out and found a dozen caches.
If only we could get people to embrace the concept of "smug
mode" - letting everyone find a cache. The first one in a
group to find any given cache doesn't need to wave the thing in the
air. They might let everyone have a go at finding.
In retrospect the fifth
pint of "Old Peculier" was probably somewhat
ambitious, but that's the kind of guy I am...
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