25 March 2018 (Sunday) - The Squirell's Stomp

I had a terrible night’s sleep. "er indoors TM" and the puppy had declared a truce and were both quiet, but still I saw every hour of the night; finally nodding off half an hour before the alarm squawked.
Over brekkie I had a look at the Internet. I like looking at Facebook because I can be nosey. I can see what people have been getting up to. Today people continued to wash their dirty linen in public. Some of it was entertaining; some of it rather sad. There is nothing as entertaining as other people, is there? Meanwhile, I was seemingly bombarded with adverts about “All Natural Potty Pods”. I must admit I neither know no care what an “All Natural Potty Pod” is. I did a little research – I *think* it is something to do with how hippies clean their chodbins.

Facebook also told me that my download was ready. Yesterday there was a *lot* of fuss on Facebook about just how much personal information Facebook was storing on individual people. You can download a copy of what they have to see what they have found out about you. I have done just that; it is a *lot* of information – nearly three gigabytes worth of the stuff. And every single bit of it is stuff that I put up myself. I can’t see what all the fuss is about. So what if Facebook are keeping a record of everything I’ve done on their website? Is what I did and where I went ten years ago any great secret? If I have anything I want to keep quiet, I don’t use social media to broadcast it to the world.
I can’t help but think that having a permanent record of your life mightn’t be a bad thing. Given the cases of Rolf Harris and Jimmy Saville when people made allegations going back twenty or more years, this might be a way of coming up with evidence (one way or the other) about what happened so long ago that everyone has forgotten about it.

I programmed “Hannah”, we got the leads on to the dogs, and set off to Bobbing. We’d heard through the grape vine that there might be a new geo-series in the general area, and the rumours were correct. We found a couple of dozen hunters of Tupperware who had heard the same gossip, and as our phones went mad with emails about the new series we realized the gossip was correct.
Realising there were too many of us to play the game, we spilt into two teams, and set off on the new geo-series in opposite directions.
We had a rather good walk; it is always good to meet up with friends. As we walked we met horses and sheep, and some hills. We’ve not done many serious walks this year and I struggled with the “up”. And having divided our forces it was good to meet up half-way for lunch, and again at the end of the walk in the Three Tuns where we had a rather good pint of mild, a very impressive pint of “real lager” and (arguably) too much port.

I slept most of the way home. Once home the dogs had a good bath; both were filthy. "er indoors TM" boiled up a rather good bit of dinner (as she does) and as the dogs snored I turned the telly on. An episode of “Still Game” was good, then the last episode of the current season of Jamestown. Jamestown is a strange show; in two seasons very little has happened other than Jocelyn’s bosom has heaved quite a bit. You would think that a show would need more of a plot than that, wouldn’t you? No? I suppose it doesn’t really *need* more…

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