I had possibly the worst night’s sleep I’ve ever had last
night. With "er indoors TM" off out for the night
on the razzle the puppy wouldn’t settle, and had barking fits every fifteen
minutes until 3am. I managed to get three hours sleep, but it wasn’t long after
6am that my phone gave me all sorts on notification alarm messages even though
they were all turned off.
As I scoffed toast, Facebook told me that several people
had their birthdays today. I spent a few minutes sending out the birthday video
that I made up a while back.
Other people’s birthdays amaze me. Why have I aged so
badly? It’s not as though I don’t do any exercise? People who look ten years
younger than me are actually ten years older. And when will maturity come? Some
*seriously* normal people are little
more than half my age.
I then spent a little while trying to solve more of the
puzzles on the virtual pub crawl in London. Herculean
efforts got us past yesterday’s sticking point but now we’ve got to a pub not a
million miles from Liverpool Street railway station. We need to read the plaque
by the door. Can we find it on Google images? So… I’m reliably informed that
one of my loyal readers is occasionally not a million miles away from Liverpool
Street so I’ve sent instructions…
I
popped the leads on to the dogs and we walked round to Newtown. We’d decided
against out usual long Sunday walk as the weather forecast had been against us.
I think we were probably right to have done so. Today was bitterly cold with a
freezing fog.
We
soon found "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" and "Stormageddon
- Bringer of Destruction TM". Littlun immediately took
charge of the dog poo sacks, and we did a little circuit out to the playpark at
South Willesborough and back again. It was a shame that "Stormageddon -
Bringer of Destruction TM" insisted on going into the
playpark. We had fun going “Grandad-fast”
on the roundabouts and going “Grandad-high”
on the swings, but he wouldn’t be told what bits of the playpark to avoid, and
all too soon he was soaked from the melting ice on the slides. Cold and wet, he
whinged and whined all the way home. Not even the promise of putting the dog
poo into the bins could cheer him up.
We came home, and I made a point of washing the dogs’ paws.
Just lately there has been a lot of talk of the need to do so as dogs get salt
on their paws form the salting and gritting of the roads, and yesterday I
noticed Fudge constantly licking his paws.
Both hounds seemed not too bothered about having their paws
done, and bearing in mind that half the day had gone, I went up the KFC for
lunch, and devoured it whilst watching an episode of “Still Game”.
Having been up most of the night I wasn’t feeling that
lively, and the forecast rain had arrived. So had "er indoors TM"
(she’d brought cake!).
I sat on the sofa and spent much of the afternoon
geo-puzzling. It gave me something to think about. Have you looked at the geo-puzzles
in London? There seems to be this unwritten rule that any such puzzle in London
has to be nigh on insoluble. Four hours brain-strain and co-operative effort
gave me eight solved puzzles.
I wonder what’s for tea. Whatever it is can only be better
than last night’s bag of crisps and some ice cream…
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