My dog is supposed to
spend the night in his basket. Usually he creeps upstairs and I wake
to fiind I'm holding him. If he's quiet I really don't mind him
coming up. But last night he wasn't quiet. He was restless and
wouldn't settle. I gave him until 3am to quieten down then I carried
him to his basket; I wanted *some* sleep.
I managed a few hours
sleep, got up, and after a rather swift brekkie got on with the
business of the day. Today was very much a continuation of yesterday.
First off me and my pup went for our morning constitutional. And this
time I remembered to do the geo-maintenance that I didn't do
yesterday.
At the risk of having a
whinge I did wonder why I bothered. Both caches that I maintained
today need a bit of effort on the part of the finder before being
able to complete them. One was last found six months ago; the other
over a year ago. For all that the general tupperware-hunting
fraternity publically look down on a film pot stashed under a rock,
it's the simple film pots under rocks that get found more often. Over
the last year or so I've put out caches which need a bit of effort
to complete (Wherigos annd puzzles), and each one is rarely
found more than once or twice a month.
Yesterday I mentioned the
scantily-clad young mother we met. We didn't see her today. Instead
we found ourselves followed by a rather sour-faced young mother who
followed our steps from home to Park Farm; all the time shrieking at
little Ronnie about how late they were going to be.
I felt rather sorry for
poor little Ronnie.
We came home via the
vets; my furry associate was due flea treatment and worming tablets.
Whilst there I booked his M.O.T. for tomorrow,, then we came home.
Yesterday afternoon I'd got another car-load of rubbish ready for the
tip and so I took it to the tip.
I didn't quite point and
laugh whilst at the tip, but I must admit it came close. Have you
ever been to the tip? I'm sure you get the general gist of the
concept. You've got a lot of messy rubbish to chuck into some rather
grubby skips. You don't go in your Sunday best. Leastways I don't.
One rather silly woman
was there clothed in radiant white; trying to hold her rubbish at
arms length. She was getting visibly grubbier by the second. She
knew that she was getting visibly grubbier by the second, and she
was getting rather cross about it.
Over lunch I watched a
film I'd recorded onto the SkyPlus box. I can remember "The
Virgin Soldiers" being rather entertaining. My memory
isn't what it once was; the film was dire. I turned it off after half
an hour, and went back into the garden. It wasn't long before I had
another car load for the tip.
This tip load had come
from clearing the patio. I then had a hankering for giving that patio
a serious scrub, so I went to B&Q to get a jet-washer. The nice
lady assistant was very helpful, and helped me choose exactly what I
needed.
I then took my £150+
worth of kit to the checkout. There were three checkouts in use, so
I joined the queue. No one else joined the queue after me, and when I
got to the checkout the girl at my till got up and walked away. The
other two checkout girls then started gossiping and made a point of
ignoring me. I waited for two minutes and then walked out; leaving my
potential purchases on the counter.
As I walked out the
gossiping checkout girls asked if they could help me. I told them
they could have, but they had had their chance and had blown it.
I dozed for much more of
the remainder of the afternoon than I would have liked to have done,
and after turning up too early in Arden Drive I went round to Steve's
to borrow his jet-washer. I shall play with that tomorrow...
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