My little dog was
somewhat subdued last night. I came home to find that in a moment of
laxity he had eaten er indoors TM" 's
best pyjamas. She wasn't happy; and was even more enraged when he
wagged his tail at her as she lambasted him for his lapse. He was in
serious trouble. Poor little thing.
When she wasn't looking I
gave him extra doggy treats to make up for his being told off.
I woke this morning to
see that the tricky geocache I'd been planning and working on had
gone live overnight. When I found this out it had been live and
unfound for seven hours. That is unheard of in Ashford.
I was worried; had I done
something wrong? I checked. All was as it should be. Either no one
had tried for it, or it had done what it was supposed to do and had
foxed people. Eventually the cache was found for the first time
shortly after 5pm. Nearly a whole day; that is an eternity in Ashford
caching. Perhaps I *have* devised something fiendishly difficult?
And so to work. The
journey took somewhat longer than usual; a learner driver was having
a driving lesson, and drove the twelve miles from Ashford to Chartham
at thirty seven miles an hour. The speed limit for most of that
journey is fifty miles an hour. I watched a seemingly endless stream
of people overtake the string of patient traffic behind that learner.
Those overtaking took some serious risks for which the driving
instructor must take some blame. I realise that people have to learn;
but at rush hour on one of the busiest stretches of road in the
county?
As I drove the presenters
of the morning's radio show were interviewing someone or other; I
wasn't really paying attention until I realised that whoever was
being interviewed was becoming more and more evasive in his answers.
As another presenter tried to bring the interview to a close the
first presenter became more persistent in questioning her victim.
When told that there wasn't time to continue with the interview she
actually said (live on BBC Radio 4) "sod the timings".
I did laugh.
After that, the morning's
installment of "Desert Island Discs" was rather
dull.
And so to work. One of my
colleagues (the inestimable "Soup Boy") claimed never to
have heard of SpongeBob SquarePants. I don't think I made as good a
job as I might out of persuading him of the merits of the show.
Somehow he couldn't understand how a crab could have a whale for a
daughter; nor could he get his head around a superhero called
"Mermaidman".
We also investigated a
wonderful website: www.famousbirthdays.com Whilst my colleagues
shared birthdays with such erstwhile people as Mohammed Ali and Walt
Disney, I am saddled with Michael McIntyre and Charlotte Church.
With my bit done I came
home. I had half a mind to hide another fiendishly difficult
geocache, but the lateness of the hour and the torrential rain put me
off of that idea. Which was probably a shame...
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