I slept well; I say “well”.
I slept for eight hours, but had some rather vivid dreams and woke feeling
rather more worn out than when I went to bed. I had a quick bite of brekkie
then drove my car to the garage. On Monday the nice man at the garage had said
to drive it a bit and take it back and maybe they might be able to identify the
oil leak. I got there, left the car with them and the nice man gave me a lift
home.
As I opened my birthday cards Fudge got told off. He’s been
chewing a large plastic chew-toy. When Treacle chews anything like that there
are plastic fragments everywhere. When Fudge chews the same sorts of thing
there are never any plastic bits. He must swallow them all. He found himself
facing a lifetime ban of plastic chewy things. The dogs got given a rawhide
chew each instead. Fudge started chomping his; Treacle immediately scrambled
behind the sofa and under the wall units looking for somewhere to hide hers.
Eventually she crawled out from under the shoe boxes without her chew. She’d
stashed it somewhere under there. She never eats her chews right away; she
always hides them for a bit first.
Bearing in mind “Hannah”’s
failure yesterday, I had another go at my GPS unit. It worked perfectly. I
wonder what went wrong yesterday? I programmed her up for the Romney Marsh (as one does from time to time) and "er
indoors TM" and I took the dogs out. First of all to Great
Chart. Yesterday I had a message through Facebook from someone who had just
walked my new series of geocaches near Great Chart…
Oh dear…
Originally I had planned to have the route going across a
footpath, but with dogs loose on the other side of a stile I decided not to use
that footpath, but I hid a cache under the stile. Someone found the cache and
showed it to the people who live in the house just up the road, presumably
thinking that locals would be as impressed with a sandwich box as they were.
I was a tad concerned as it has always been my experience
that people don’t want geocaches near their houses. I suspected this one would
soon go missing if it hadn’t already. But I was wrong. It was still in place this
morning.
We then drove down to the Romney Marsh where we hunted out
three special geocaches (or as special as
a wet sandwich box on a marsh can be). “Hannah”’s
field trials seemed to go well. It was a shame that Treacle had to paddle in
stagnant water, but what can you expect from a dog on a marsh in February?
As we drove home my phone rang. It was the garage. Having
scrubbed the outside of my car’s engine on Monday and having driven a hundred miles
(well, ninety-six) they had given the
thing a good going over to see if they could work out where the oil leak was
coming from. But there had been no leaking at all. I was rather pleased about
that. We’ve agreed to monitor the leak. I say “monitor”; I don’t know a crankshaft from a big end. I’ll ask the
nice man at the garage to have a look when I next have to go back, or I shall
wait for the engine to explode.
Seeing as it was my birthday we went to the Beefeater and
had a rather good dinner. A rack of ribs and a lump of chicken, chips and a
trifle. Not all on the same plate, but I wouldn’t have minded.
From there it was only a short hop to the cinema to see the
latest Aardman film; “Early Man”. I won’t say what happened, but I can
thoroughly recommend the film.
And then a quiet evening in… In years gone by I would have
been out on the lash for a birthday… I’m getting old.
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