I suppose that after a
full day's geo-wandering (ended with a couple of pints of
Spitfire) after a night shift it's no surprise that I slept like
a log last night. I finally woke just before 7am when it hurt to
swallow. I got up, and over brekkie watched "Dad's Army"
which the SkyPlus box had recorded for me. It's good to me in that
way. Just recently BBC2's been running the very old "Dad's
Army" episodes which were made in black and white; I don't
think I've seen these old ones before.
My dog sat with me as I
watched telly. I say "sat with me"; he heaved
himself onto my lap and then slept. "er indoors TM"
got up, and fixed my broken GPS in less than two minutes. She said it
helped being able to look at her one. I would have needed a
magnifying glass to see the fiddly bits.
As scoffed toast I spent
five minutes looking at my social diary. I've pretty much booked
myself up for (nearly) every weekend for the next three
months. Never a dull moment...
At 9.30am we collected
"My Boy TM" and his entourage.
Several of them are off for a family holiday in Turkey. We had the
option to go with them but... I don't do abroad. There's too much
farting around in the journey to get there. Too much time is wasted
in the travelling and time's precious. Take today's journey. We left
Ashford at 9.30am, and they expect to finally get to their hotel at
1am tomorrow morning.
Instead we were on
chauffering duties. We drove them to a surprisingly busy Gatwick
airport, dropped them off, and came home again.
The original plan had
been to stay in the Gatwick area and go for a walk round there. But
heavy rain put paid to that idea. Instead we came home. I had a quick
look on-line and took serious offence at the aggressive feminist crap
which was appearing in my Facebook feed. I understand that
historically the lot of the average woman has been less than ideal.
And in parts of the world it still is. But (and let's be crystal
clear on this) I am not personally responsible for that, and to
imply (or say outright at a public meeting behind my back)
that I am is rather piss-boiling.
I replied with a rather
pointed status message which seems to have been taken well by those
who had no idea what it was all about and who might have
inadvertantly taken offence.
Bearing in mind it's only
a few weeks till our summer garden party we popped into town to get
the makings of forty pints of beer; if I don't get it on now it won't
be ready in time. And seeing how we were at something of a lose end
at lunch time we thought we'd eat out. We *could* have gone
for a pub carvery somewhere. We *could* have gone for a posh
restaurant's mid-day deal. We went to McDonalds. The food's far
cheaper, it comes out a lot quicker, and I actually prefer it to a
lot of the over-priced poncey stuff.
We then went on to visit
"Daddies Little Angel TM" and the
baby and I slept on the sofa for an hour before coming home to take
"Furry Face TM" for his walk. We
went round the park, and he wore his new coat. He *hates*
wearing coats and he walked round sulking. To prove a point we took
his coat off and he immediately perked up and ran round like a thing
possessed.
Home again, and after a
quick shower I got the makings of the beer into the bucket to
(hopefully) ferment and I then spent a little while on eBay.
I'm feeling the urge to be geo-constructive.
For all that its the sort
of thing people go for, the geocaching community are usually very
dismissive of the standard film-pot-under-a-rock hide. Bearing this
in mind, generally when I put out a geocache I've previously spent an
absolute age devising a clever puzzle or intricately programming a
GPS game. But those ones only get found maybe once a month, and I
lose count of people telling me how they hate puzzles and Wherigos.
I'm going to stick a film
pot (or thirty six) under a rock and watch the masses
stampede...
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