A decent night's sleep
was rudely interrupted at 6.30am when I had a phone call from someone
in Rye who announced that they were a wrong number and hung up. I
came down to see my little dog was wandering round the living room. I
let him out for a tiddle; he came back in, and for all that overnight
he'd eaten the tea he hadn't eaten yesterday, he didn't seem at all
interested in his brekkie. He turned his nose up at the crusts of my
toast too.
Being wide awake some
hours earlier than I needed to be, and being at something of a loose
end I got the ironing board out and ironed for an hour or so.
Periodically "Furry Face TM"
whimpered. I'm not sure if he was actually still in pain, or if he's
doing it for attention. If he is attention-seeking, it's certainly
working.
As I ironed I watched the
telly. "Carry on Again Doctor" was on. Forty five
years ago (when it was made) Sid James slapping young ladies
(and laughing) on the arse was seen as harmless fun. Nowadays
people are going to prison for doing that. I found myself watching
the film not for entertainment, but as an example of how much social
attitudes have changed in the last few years.
With ironing done I was
soon going stir-crazy. Little pup was not allowed to go for a walk
(vet's orders) and by the time "er indoors TM"
got up I was bored senseless. Eventually we set off to Follkestone to
deliver the last of the furniture I collected on Friday and to see
the baby. We weren't alone in going to visit the littlun; we had
quite a convocation of the family. We had gone to Folkestone via
Tesco, and as we saw the littlun we had coffee and doughnuts of three
flavours; jam, cheese & onion and salt & vinegar (really!)
We had a little stroll to
the harbour for cockles; I wound up larger grand-children by
defeating them with my pants of death. A good time was had by all.
(Except for those defeated by the pants of death)
On the way home we stoped
off at the coastal park to get the final bits of info needed for the
Earthcache there for International Earthcache Day (it's a
geocaching thing), and came home. I'd hoped my dog had had a
quiet day. I supose he had, but he was excited to see us, and being
an "immediate" kind of dog he charged to see us and
put his back out some more. Silly pup.
And with "er
indoors TM" off bowling (and all my
ironing already done) I settled in front of the telly to watch
"Jeeves and Wooster". What else does one do on a
Sunday evening?
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