I was up with the lark as usual this morning
and was watching the third episode of "Brideshead
Revisited" well before 6am. Sebastian has turned to drink despite the
machinations of Mr Samgrass. I have seen these episodes so many times and still
I love them as I love all period dramas.
I set off to work, but didn't stop off for
any geocaches on my way today. Two months ago I thought I'd try for the "cache a day for a month" challenge
in August. I had serious doubts as to whether or not I would be able to keep a
finding streak going for such a long period of time as a month. But having done
the month I thought I'd keep on going. I've done two months, and that is
enough. There aren't many more caches to be done. Or, to be more precise, there
aren't more caches to be done that don't require me going a long way out of my
way to get them. Being a mean sort of person I keep track of my expenditure; I
have spent forty quid more on petrol that usual for these last two months. I
can't justify the expense. Not when I am still recovering from the vet's bill.
This morning over brekkie I'd read about some
young boy racers who had been vooming round the ring road (as they do) and had had a rather serious crash near Somerset Road.
As I tried to drive past there at 6.30am this morning the road was still closed.
According
to the local news it seems rather serious - someone died. Mind you it can't
really be a surprise - the ring road has been a race track for years. Perhaps
now the police might do something about it.
As I drove I listened to the radio. My piss
boiled when there was talk of the failure to balance the books in the American
budget. People who work in the American public sector have this morning been
sent home from work unpaid, and are facing uncertainty as to whether
or not they will have a job.
The pundits on the radio described this state
of affairs as "American fun and games". Hardly fun and certainly not
a game for anyone faced with no income and no likelihood of one.
I stopped off in Wincheap for petrol. The
young lady at the till in the filling station seemed particularly morose. And
then it was on to work ou il y a un tatou dans l'arbre. Il se tombe sure la
tete de l'oiseau. L'oiseau est aussie demente com pantalons maintenent.
As I remarked to my colleague who is learning
so much French from me, when he goes on his holiday to France, as long as he
goes up a tree he will do fine.
Being Tuesday the clans gathered. Today in
Queen Street where I slept through an episode of Merlin. A shame – I quite like
that show…
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