Am I paranoid or is the
universe really against me? Following what could have been the best
night's sleep in months I was woken by a text message from work.
Could I work the late shift? No, I couldn't. I dozed off again and
another text came in. Not today's late shift; could I do one later in
the week? Then the phone rang with yet another mis-dialled call for
the vets. And when the chaps that next door had hired to fix the
fence started bellowing at each other I gave up and got up to find
heavy rain outside.
"Furry Face TM"
was getting fractious, so despite the weather I took him for a walk.
Torrentially heavy rain had kept most of the other dog-walkers away,
but I did meet one "plum". His dog looked rather
like Fudge; different in colour but otherwise alike. I commented on
the fact, and this twit launched a bitter diatribe about how his dog
was a pure-bred Jack Russell, and how my mutt was some kind of
mongrel abomination. He then went on to point out all the physical
defects in my little dog that don't appear in the master race of pure
Jack Russells, and he only just stopped short of accusing me of
having committed atrocities against the entire canine race by not
owning a pure-bred dog.
Were the weather better I
might have debated the matter with him, but being soaked to he skin I
just smiled politely and left him ranting to a disnterested empty
park.
Once home we dried off. I
looked out of the window. The blokes fixing the fence next door were
still at it. Under supervision. The bloke next door gets people in to
do every little job, but never lets them actually get on with the
job; he stands over them finding fault with their every action. Today
was the same; He was standing in his raincoat giving a continual
stream of sage advice and suggestions. I left them to it; I wasn't
going to get involved. Instead I checked out what was going on
on-line.
Other geocachers amazed
me. There are plans to go for a geo-walk on New Year's Day. A new
load of caches will go live that morning. Several people were
complaining that the caches wouldn't go live early enough for them to
get their sat-nav units programmed in time. I have my phone raring to
go to a cache within seconds of a cache going live. A sat-nav unit
has to be taken home and plugged into a PC first.
Some of those who were
whinging about not having enough time were those who will (almost
aggressively) sing the praises of sat-nav units over phones
despite their endless disadvantages. I am now utterly convinced that
the sat-nav community are deliberately hiding something from me.
These things have so many disadvantages, but are *so* popular that I
really must be missing something vital.
I had hoped to go out
today. Having done some serious puzzle-solving I had intended to
rummage for tupperware near Peasmarsh. But the rain wasn't going to
let up, so instead we went dull shopping. First of all to Currys
where er indoors TM" ordered a
dishwasher. I'm not sure we can afford one, let alone need one, but I
just went with the flow. And whilst out we did food shopping in
Tesco. That was dull in the extreme.
WIth nothing else to do I
had a look-see at the telly. And I discovered something wonderful.
"One Man
and his Campervan" follows some bloke driving round the
UK in a campervan. It is a gentle little show featuring some average
bloke going to average places and doing average things; but I loved
it. It's a shame that it is little more than just another cookery
program, but that's UK television these days. Better than the
alternative which is yet another police show.
With the rain showing no
sign of abating we spent the aftenoon on a sparked-up Wii. And with
rabbids spanked we set off to Folkestone for a crafty half. Last
Friday when I wasn't at astro club the idea of a little drinkie was
suggested, and so we went down to the Firkin Alehouse in Folkestone;
only to find it was closed. So we wandered round to Kipps instead and
had a cheeky three there. Then on to the Guildhall, and Chambers, and
a kebab... it was all rather vague towards the end...
