I slept like a log last
night. So did my dog; when I got up this morning he was in his
basket. He usually sneaks upstairs in the night. He must have been
tired if he didn't sneak up last night.
Over brekkie I checked my
emails. I had two emails of thanks. Yesterday when walking we found
that two geocaches had clearly gone missing from along the route we
had walked. They do that from time to time. When this happens you
have two choices; you can either log "Needs Maintenance"
together with a saga of how much precious time was wasted on a wild
goose chase which tells whoever hid it to go sort the problem. Or you
can do the decent thing for all concened and replace it yourself (and
tell whoever hid it you've done so).
Opinion is (for some
odd reason) divided as to the correct course of action.
Yesterday we replaced two missing caches; today I got two messages
thanking me.
I popped the lead onto
"Furry Face TM" and we went for a
little walk. On Saturday I put the finishing touches to my latest
Wheri-project and this morning we had field trials. There were two
minor tweaks I needed to make, but other than that all was good. I
was pleased about that.
As we field-tested I
needed to go from place to place on the map, and at each place stop
and fiddle about. "Furry Face TM"
wanted to stop and fiddle when I was walking, and he was pulling to
walk on when I was stopped to fiddle about. If only I could explain
to him...
As we walked we saw a
rather odd-looking woman. Pushing a push-chair in her pyjamas she was
pulling a facial expression which I can only describe as that of a
duck with indigestion. I wonder what that was all about?
Off to work. A new
geocache had gone live this morning not far off of my drive to work,
and the call of the First to Find was too much to resist. I drove as
close as I could and then found that the one day I'd not got my
wellies in the car was the one day I actually needed them.
But I didn't get *that*
muddy, and I got to do the secret FTF dance too.
As I drove "Women's
Hour" was on the radio. Apparently half of the women
murdered in the UK are done in by their partner or ex-partner
which is male pretty much every time. Interestingly lesbians don't
seem do each other in that often. Also the pundits claimed that a
third of men murdered in the UK are done in by their gay lovers (or
ex-lovers). One lives and learns.
I stopped off at
Morrisons and got some bits and bobs, and nearly committed murder
myself. Why is it that with an entire supermarket in which to dawdle
about, everyone has to stop dead in the doorways to do their staring
into space?
Once at work I pootled
about leaving dried mud in my wake. Several people asked where the
dried mud was coming from; I kept quiet until home time.
Gotham's on telly soon...
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