Historically reports in
this blog about "Furry Face TM"
have painted him as a manic beast; he has been described as "The
Whirlwind" on occasion. However I think that the passage of time
is having an effect; he's no longer quite the puppy he once was. When
I came downstairs this morning he was fast asleep (on the sofa!) and
didn't react at all until I had to move him to open the curtain. It
wasn't that long ago that the sight of anyone in the morning would
set him into a frantic round of activity.
As always I woke long
before the time for which my alarm had been set. I did smile when my
phone alarm went off - Fudge started howling at it. This is only the
second sound that I have found which sets him off; I shall have to
experiment with other ring tones to see if I can find more. His
howling is quite cute really. And it sounds better than listening to
the nutter next door screaming racial abuse at his Japanese wife.
And so to work. Yesterday
I mentioned that I had failed (twice) to find a new geocache,
and said that I hoped the person setting it had given the wrong
co-ordinates. It would seem that he had. Revised ones went up today,
so I stopped off before work hoping for a "First to Find".
But the new co ordinates were no good to me; I had to give up after
half an hour. I've since seen that those co-ords have had a third
revision and the cache has now been found. Twice.
I would have had a go
after work, but it was rather dark by the time I'd finished. I
suspect all was fine in the first place; I just made a bog of trying
to find it. I did have the opportunity for thirteen First to Finds;
just before I left work a new series of caches went live. But they
were the wrong side of town and it was rather late. So I contented
myself with just a little detour and I went for a different cache on
the way home.
It seemed odd that a
cache with difficulty level 1.5 gave me such trouble this morning
when I then went on to find a cache with difficulty level 3.5 in
less than ten seconds of searching (in the dark).
Work was entertaining
today; a colleague is learning French. So in a spirit of helpfulness
I spent much of the day speaking to him in the language of his study.
Malheuresment il ne comprehend pas mon espirit d'helpfulness.
Entre-temps notre ami monsieur le singe est dans l'arbre encore un
fois avec l'oiseau. Le singe n'aime pas l'oiseau. Il fais le
peau-peau sur la tete d'oiseau. L'oiseau n'est pas chuffed. "Sacre
bleu!" il dit. (L'oiseau, ne pas le singe), et il
frappe le singe sur son ballons vigoureusement.
Is it only thirty-three
years since I achieved a grade "B" in "O" level
French?
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