I was woken this morning
by the sound of "Furry Face TM"
being hoofed off of the end of the bed as "er indoors TM"
rolled over in her sleep. I felt sorry for the poor pup and went
downstairs with him. I combed him (he likes that) and fed him
most of my toast as I watched Reggie Perrin being beastly with his
secretary (he likes that - Reggie, not "Furry Face TM").
Being on a late start I
had some time to spare so I took my dog for a walk. I'd had a report
that one of my geocaches had gone missing so I thought we might walk
out and have a look-see. Needless to say the thing was exactly where
I'd hidden it all those months ago.
Whilst we made our way
into into Newtown we found ourselves walking just behind a gaggle of
rather "council" young mothers. They were
"discussing" (shrieking about) the current
World Cup football matches. One of them had announced that she wasn't
supporting England any more; she was supporting Italy from now on.
After the other three had made protestations of patriotism (all
using the F-word) the first explained her reasoning. "Shaddap,
Shaddap" she started, and in much the same delightful tone
she went on to say that you *have* to support a team
(apparently) so you might as well support one that has a very
good chance of winning.
On hearing this the other
three harpies actually "shad ap" and after a
moment's reflection realised that the logic was inescapable. It was a
shame that at this point me and my dog turned right whilst they
walked straight on; I would have liked to have heard them prove that
black was white.
We met a cat which was
sitting on the path. Before I could stop him, "Furry Face TM"
flew at the cat. The cat wasn't fazed; it just sat where it was and
glared with contempt at my dog who was completely nonplussed by a cat
that didn't run away. He gave it a couple of experimental woofs
before I could get his lead on him and drag him away. A little later
I let him off the lead again and after we played "fetch"
(he's getting better at it) he puddled in the river.
I left for work a little
earlier than I needed to; with a beautiful morning I thought I might
do a spot of geocaching before work. I set off to Bekesbourne where I
tracked a couple down. One was on the site of an old airfield used
during the war. The other... It was actually rather scary. In a
corner of a field there were about a hundred concrete pyramids; each
about a metre tall. The pyramids were very old and whatever their
original use was would seem to have disappeared into the mists of
time. Many of these pyramids were now under stinging nettles and
brambles. But many were still visible, and they all looked incredibly
out of place. It was eerie - almost like something out of an episode
of "Doctor Who". The geocache I was after was
concealed at the furthest end of these pyramids, necessitating making
my way through them all.
It was rather
nerve-wracking going through them; I was half-expecting to be
physically attacked by the inanimate concrete objects. Perhaps I
watch too much sci-fi...?
After that excitement the
rest of the day was rather dull in comparison.
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