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13 October 2016 (Thursday) - Brook to Wye Downs

I was woken by a restless dog. I woke feeling like death warmed up but was amazed to find it was nearly 8am; I’d slept for ages (if not well).

Over brekkie I had a minor shock. Apparently a large proportion of the country’s recent tax scams have involved an address in Folkestone not fifty yards away from where Jimbo lives. It is amazing what goes on behind closed doors.
My piss then boiled when I read about the sad death of Estelle O’Sullivan. She was expecting twins and had various complications of pregnancy. To cut a long story short she died despite the best efforts of all the medical staff around her. Don’t get me wrong – that is tragic. In an ideal world that would not have happened. But it did. Despite the best efforts of all medical professionals, having babies can be dangerous. And now the papers are looking to assign blame. “Bungles” and “blunders” are being referred to.
Do these journalists honestly think people go into health care just to bollocks-up people’s lives? Or do they think that by publicly hounding professionals (who have had to face a terrible experience) they are actually providing a public service? After all no one really makes that much of a fuss when the garage stuffs up your car during a service. When a solicitor takes far too long to do a conveyancing no one threatens to sue him. Everyone expects plumbers and builders not to turn up to agreed appointments. No one expects the trains to run on time. But healthcare professionals are not allowed to make a single mistake during their entire careers. (I know this from *very* bitter experience)

I took a deep breath and popped the lead on to "Furry Face TM" and we drove out to Brook where we met Kim and Matt. Earlier in the week a new series of geocaches had gone live out there and I’d asked if anyone fancied a walk today. I do that a lot.
We had a rather good walk. Being from Brook to Wye Downs we knew there would be some serious “ups”, but a good work-out is good for the heart. Or that’s what I tried to convince Kim. But once at the top of the downs the views were spectacular; I took a few photos as we walked. A shame it was rather misty toward the horizon.
Geocache-wise… The caches were mostly in good order however one was already broken (after only two days). One was twenty yards out on the GPS; using the given hint soon put us right. But "er indoors TM" had told me I would come home moaning… she was right.
Before we started we could see from the geo-map that there weren’t that many caches and that they were a *long* way apart. Don’t get me wrong; I am *really* grateful to everyone and anyone who hides these things for me to find; especially in a location as beautiful as today’s walk was in. I *really* don’t want to be negative. However, if I’d put a series of caches out on that route I would have put out ten to fifteen more. I’m sorry but (in my honest opinion) half a mile between caches is too far.

After five miles we got back to the cars. We said our goodbyes and me and my dog came home to find "er indoors TM" loading up her car with a view to flogging candles to the masses. Whilst she was doing whatever it was she was doing I mowed the lawn to stay out of her way.
Once she’d cleared off I scoffed the sandwich I’d carried all round Wye Downs whilst watching an episode of Game of Thrones. I was a tad disappointed with this one. It was a tad gory; there were several throats being cut. And when they were cut there was *lots* of blood. All very dramatic and all good for the viewing figures. But I didn’t believe it. It simply wasn’t realistic. Basic anatomy tells us that when you cut the front of someone’s throat blood isn’t going to gush out. Feel your own throat. Go on – have a squeeze. You’ll feel the front bit is hard. That’s your windpipe – the bit you breathe through. If you cut that it will sting a bit but won’t gush a fountain of blood. Feel round the sides of your neck. Go on – have a squeeze. The major blood vessels are right back there. If you want to get a really good gush of blood that’s where to cut.
Perhaps I’m just a tad too picky.

I’ve just re-read that. It was a bit gruesome wasn’t it. Sorry.

I had this idea to do a bit more gardening. I got as far as the shed and got a little sidetracked. On Tuesday "My Boy TM" mentioned that he might have left some fishing gear in the shed before he moved out, and if there was anything in there I could have it. My shed is something of an Aladdin’s cave so I thought I might see what I could find. A cursory rummage came up with a new holdall-cum-seat, a new tackle box, a load of bite indicators and an unhooking mat. Result. I shan’t tell him; I shall just tuen up with them on our next fishing trip and see if he notices.

With "er indoors TM" off flogging candles I had to fend for myself for dinner. I fended in the general direction of the KFC and scoffed the contents of a “Mighty Bucket for One” whilst watching the film “Kick Ass II”. As films go it was odd. It didn’t really know what sort of film it was. Was it a comedy? Was it super-violence? It tried to be both and didn’t really manage either. A shame really.
I then watched old episodes of “Red Dwarf”; all of the old series are available through my SkyPlus box.

As I watched telly I had my washing machine having a go at the contents of the laundry basket. It is now on its third batch: my smalls. It is making rather odd noises…

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