12 October 2014 (Sunday) - The Pants of Death

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?