29 June 2018 (Friday) - Bit Bored, Really...

No four o’clock barking sessions, no playful dogs at silly o’clock; I had a wonderful night fast asleep.
It was only a shame to come downstairs to find a packet of “love hearts” had been strewn everywhere. I blame Treacle.

Over brekkie I had a look-see at the Internet and I’m afraid my piss boiled. Yet another of the world’s top geocachers had been announced. This chap had hidden five Wherigoes (I’ve hidden twenty-one – all with more “favourite points” than his). I emailed geo-HQ and asked if I’d *only* hidden those twenty-one Wherigoes (and not the two hundred others) would I have been part of the elite gang. I explained that I didn’t want to get into a long argument; just a “yes or no” answer would suffice. I wonder if they will reply. Somehow I doubt it.
I wondered if I should cancel the boat trip out to the Red Sands fort that I was trying to charter. A rather high drop-out rate combined with the reticence of the people at the boat hire to answer emails, and hearing that on Monday the sea was as calm as a mill pond and yet the boat’s captain felt the sea was too rough to go on to the fort have all left me thinking “no”.
I then spent an hour or so solving geo-puzzles in the New Forest area just because I could.

I took the dogs round the park for our morning constitutional. There was a minor hiccup when one of the normal people (and his dog) wouldn’t leave us alone. He was a bit odd, and Rolo was continually trying to fight with his dog. Eventually he pissed off, and we had a fun five minutes playing in the river.
With our walk done I had a plan to put the old lino from the kitchen onto the shed floor. After five minutes I decided against this idea. There was just too much stuff in the shed which needed to be shifted before I could do the job. Instead I tidied the back yard and did a tip run. However there was a little problem. The tip doesn’t take half-empty tins of paint. Apparently I have to let them dry out and then the tip will take the dried paint and the tins separately. I was reliably assured that tins of wet paint are the most dangerous things in the world. I reflected on just how brave I’d been yesterday dealing with the stuff myself, and decided to restrain myself from laughing out loud at the jobsworth idiot who *really* did think that tins of wet paint are the most dangerous things in the world.

I came back via B&Q where I picked up a new yard brush. There was quite a queue at the tills. One of the self-service machines was broken. One of the members of staff who was standing idly by said he couldn’t help as his shift was over and he was going home. I thought it was odd that he was still standing there doing nothing ten minutes later, but what do I know? After all, I’m silly enough to handle tins of wet paint.

I had a spot of lunch, edited Wikipedia some more, and then (once I’d set tins of paint to dry out) set up the pressure washer. I gave the back yard a serious scrubbing. The idea was that it would take some time; it was done in an hour. So bearing in mind I’m supposed to be on holiday I put my feet up and watched a film. “Tau” was something of a disappointment. So much so that I slept through much of it.

Over fish and chips we watched last week’s episode of “Humans”; again something of a disappointment. Mankind is faced with armies of sentient robots; friends or foes? Science fiction did this them to death (much better) seventy years ago. I’m just waiting for one of the androids to be named “George 10”.
Mind you yesterday’s episode of “Young Sheldon” was rather good, if only for the fact that Meemaw is dating the Grand Nagus (from Star Trek)

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