I was sure I could feel
"Furry Face TM" fidgeting at the
bottom of the bed during the night but when I got up he was curled up
in his basket. I wonder if I was dreaming; perhaps it was the effects
of that champagne?
Over brekkie I gave telly
a miss; instead I caught up with recording and writing down
yesterday's history (as I saw it). As I was fiddling about on
the laptop I got a notification; an email or two. Well twenty-five to
be precise. A whole series of geocaches had gone out along the white
cliffs. That will be a walk for the next month or so.
I put the lead onto my
dog and we went for a little walk round to Newtown. He likes a walk,
and since I've started playing Ingress we now seem to walk to
different places every day, depending on where the blue scum (!)
have been active overnight. I suspect the blue scum are now also
walking to different places every day depending on where me and my
dog have been for our walk.
As we walked I saw what
looked to be one of my closest pals driving past. I waved
frantically; and he waved back. I say "he"; it was only
when they got close that I realised it wasn't who I thought it was.
It was actually a big fat lady in a flowery dress.
I won't say who I thought
it was...
Once home and dog
breakfasted I drove off to work. Ideally on the Thursday before
August Bank Holiday I would be going camping, but this year I wasn't
able to book my holiday in time. Such is life.
Being a late start I had
a couple of hours spare so I thought I might go geocaching. There are
several "stand-alone" caches within ten miles of
work that I am slowly picking off. I found two of the three I went
for this morning; the third eluded me. It was probably on top of an
old World War II bunker somewhere near Littlebourne. Or (to be
precise) it was on top of the thing once. Whether it still is or
not is anyone's guess.
The area around
Canterbury seems to be littered with geocaches that are hidden by
people who then lose interest in the hobby and they then just accrue
"Did Not Find" logs.
As I drove I got cross.
Not the radio this time; it was other drivers. Particularly one who
was driving (as the most recent fruit of my loin would so
succinctly say) "like a dildo". When one is
driving behind a dustbin lorry one really should take the opportunity
to go past said dustbin lorry when one is given that opportunity.
Especially when one is given that opportunity several times.
Furthermore it's not really good advertising to drive "like a
dildo" when one's van is emblazoned with one's company
details, phone number and website. So if any of my loyal readers are
thinking of buying a sectional building I can let you know of a
company to avoid.
To work. Once there I
checked my locker. I *had* left my wallet there. I thought I
had, and was rather relieved to find that I had. I then did my bit
until lunch time when I had a tootle on the saxophone. This week's
homework "I Do Like to be Beside the Seaside" and
"The Teddy Bears' Picnic" isn't coming together at
all. I'm beginning to wonder if I've reached my limit on the sax.
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