I
woke with a pounding headache. That’s twice that’s happened this week. I wonder
what that is all about?
As
the dogs ripped teddy bears to pieces I had my toast (three hundred calories!) as I looked at the Internet. Nothing
revolutionary had happened on Facebook. Idiots idioted, trolls trolled. Mind
you an ex-colleague had got guts ache, and my cousin had sinus pains. That’s
the sort of thing I like from social media. Twee memes are all very well, it is
in the petty details that the interest of existence lies (I like that quote!).
I
had a look at my in-box. It was dull. Did I want to go work at Guy’s hospital?
(No). LinkedIn suggested I might team
up with people who have studied with the Open University. Bearing in mind the
last studying I did with them was over twenty years ago, that would be
something of a tenuous connection at best. Someone with an utterly
inappropriate user name on geocaching dot com had said nice things about his
experience with one of my Wherigos (from
nine months ago). And I had a reminder that my fishing licence was due. I
shall get that on-line again. I did last year and they never took the money.
Here’s hoping…
Bearing
in mind the amount of mud I found yesterday I spent a little while hunting out
a pair of trousers and then took the dogs round the park. It was one of those
mornings when it felt good to be alive. The sun was shining, the birds were
singing, Treacle was eating something disgusting she’d found in a hedge…
We
even got a “good morning” from
OrangeHead who hadn’t yet met up with her posse.
We
came home; Treacle hunted everywhere for "er indoors TM" and cried a
little when she couldn’t find her. I spent a couple of minutes wiping the mud
from my boots. My walking boots are in a right old state. A few days ago they
were immaculate. There is nothing like snow for cleaning up your walking boots.
But with the snow now replaced with mud the things are filthy.
I
made myself a cuppa (no biccies),
watched an episode of “F is for Family”,
settled the dogs and went off in the general direction of work.
I
thought about going shopping. Brindle chippings and USB cables don't buy
themselves. But by the time I'd watched telly and cuddled with my sleeping dogs
time was pushing on.
I
drove out to Kilndown where I'd planned a little geo-mission. I started off by
acting very suspiciously round a fire hydrant and a telegraph pole. It was the
only way to get the information I needed for some puzzles. Having obtained the
numbers I needed, I sat in a nearby bus shelter pretending to wait for a bus
whilst I did some sums. It wasn't long before I had turned a telegraph pole and
a fire hydrant into GPS co-ordinates, and after a short walk I had two
geo-successes.
I
say "a short walk"; there
are those who would have taken a bus to go that far. but walking is good
exercise.
I
tried a third puzzle. I had to go to the nearby graveyard and find a family
tomb. The family in question must have been rich; they had half a dozen tombs.
I wasn't entirely sure which one I wanted, so I gave up and drove on to work
for lunch.
When
working at Maidstone I would have McLunch at the McDonalds up the road from the
hospital. Whilst McLunch is served quickly, it does come with ten thousand
McCalories. The hospital canteen at Tunbridge Wells does really good food just
as quickly. And probably with less calories. Chicken and bacon, vegetables, and
a portion of fruit for afters came in at just under four hundred calories.
That's a sizeable proportion of my daily allowance.
Having
scoffed, I went in to work to find home-made cake in the tea room. In the past
i would have had a couple of slices. In retrospect that is probably why I've
got to lose about a third of my body weight. So I was good and didn't have any
cake at all.
Instead
I spent the afternoon feeling hungry. Feeling hungry is God's way of telling
you that the diet is working. A shame it works so slowly, but there it is.
And
in closing did you know that today is the fortieth anniversary of the first
broadcasting of
the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy on Radio Four?
Mind
you that is hardly news to any hoopy frood who knows where their towel is...
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