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23 July 2018 (Monday) - Pensioner ?


I slept like a log last night. I woke at one point to find I was twisted into a rather awkward position as Fudge had made himself comfortable where my legs should have been. I didn’t have the heart to disturb him; I soon nodded off again.

I got up, set the washing machine going and stood on the scales. A week’s concerted effort has got me back to the weight I was when I last lost interest in dieting. It strikes me that the weight doesn’t go on *that* quickly… I just need to have a serious diet more often.
Over brekkie I saw I had several notifications on Facebook; the photos I’d taken yesterday seemed to have been well-received by the world at large. Sometimes I wonder if I put too much on to social media. The first fruit of my loin once commented that I don’t so much fart without telling the world about it. I have noticed several memes on Facebook recently about how some people post up so much dross. I’ve also noticed that these people never actually post anything original.
I looked at the photos of last night’s geo-meet in Herne Bay. There were several people in kayaks. I didn’t realise the boats were coming out. Had we known that we would probably not have gone for that walk round Canterbury and got the boat out instead as we’ve not got the thing out for ages.

I got the washing on to the line, settled the dogs then drove out to the garage where I collected "er indoors TM". Her car was in for a service. I took her to work and dropped her off with strict instructions to ring "My Boy TM" to tell hm I was on the way.
I went round for "My Boy TM"; the drive took ten minutes. I arrived to find him not ready. As I was fussing little Rolo so his phone rang. It was his mother to tell him I was on the way!

We loaded up the car and drove out to Harley Lands fishery. We set up and cast out. In a rather welcome change with tradition I caught the first fish. And the second, third and fourth too. The fifth catch was his, but it wasn’t a fish. It was a goose. The stupid thing would not be shoo-ed away and it got a hook in the leg. I got the job of freeing the stupid bird. There was a lot of quacking, but the goose was soon on his way none the worse for wear. Word must have then got about the avian community as we didn’t have any more problems with ducks or geese at all after that.

I did laugh when the baliff came round to take our money for our fishing. At some lakes you pay for the year, at some you pay for the day. I prefer lakes where you pay for the day. It is cheaper, you don’t feel you have to keep going back to the place to get your money’s worth, and Hartley Lands charge me a reduced rate day ticket because they think I’m an old age pensioner. In the past we’ve often wondered why we get so much change from the baliff. Today we actually looked at the ticket – they charged for one adult and one “concession”. On the one hand do I *really* look as though I am sixty-six years old? On the other hand my day’s fishing is three quid cheaper than my son’s.
I’ll take the three quid if for no better reason than that it boils his piss that I get it cheaper.

As the afternoon wore on I noticed three lads walking along the bank. They looked familiar. I looked closer – it was my brother and my two nephews. He’d finished work early and thought they’d pop out to see us. We told him he should have brought some rods. We chatted and bandied insults for half an hour or so; my nephew Jamie landed two carp for me; one of them over ten pounds in weight.
My other nephew sulked and made no secret that he didn’t want to be there. He would seem to be the odd one out – in a family of fishermen he has absolutely no interest in a crafty carp.

I took a few photos whilst we fished. Usually we would have fished longer, but the "er indoors TM" – mobile had to be collected from the garage. I dropped the first fruit of my loin at his house and collected "er indoors TM". We drove to the garage where there was consternation. They had been able to sort the air-con and the iffy tyres but had been unable to do the service as the dipstick had gone missing.
How can anyone lose a dipstick?

We came home, woke the dogs and walked them "er indoors TM" round to the park where we met "My Boy TM" who had similarly woken Rolo to take him for a walk. Rolo got very over-excited; I am reliably informed that Treacle is a bad influence on him.

With "er indoors TM" off bowling I’m going to watch all the  telly I slept through last night. I wonder if I will stay awake?

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