Finding myself wide awake at
three o’clock I got up and watched last night’s episode of “Game of Thrones”.
Billed as being an epic blockbuster episode I thought I might watch it to avoid
getting any spoilers later.
I wish I’d stayed in bed.
Without (hopefully)
giving any spoilers, the strength of “Game of Thrones” is that the
characters are all so believable. Some you like; some you loathe, but the show
is about the people and how they interact. We all knew there was going to be a
battle in last night’s episode. The story had been leading up to it. But the
battle scene dragged on. And on. And the whole thing had been deliberately
filmed in such low lighting that unless you watched the whole thing with the
room lights turned off you didn’t have a hope of seeing who was on screen and
who wasn’t. To add insult to injury the special effects were somewhat lacking;
I can only describe the episode as a rather poor re-make of the fight scenes of
“The Golden Voyage of Sinbad” which had been filmed in the dark.
The episode was best described
as “tedious”; I found myself having to go on-line to find out who had
died and who had survived. But amazingly as I scoffed my breakfast toast four
hours later, the world and his wife were raving about what a brilliant episode
it had been. I can only assume I watched something different to everyone else.
Sometimes I hate being in a
minority of one.
When I checked my emails this
morning I read that the Sussex geocachers are staging a geo-rally. It is the sort of thing that we in Kent actually did do a few years
ago… but we had resistance from the geo-feds for over two years before they
finally relented and let us stage such an event. The Sussex gang do it annually
(!)
Mind you, it could be a good fun
event. And (by random chance) I’ve booked the day off work anyway so I’m
keen to join in. The idea is to meet up in Reigate at four o’clock in the
morning. At sunrise the organiser shouts “GO!!!” You then have sixteen
hours and thirty-eight minutes (the hours of daylight on the longest day)
to find as many geocaches as you can before ending up in the back end of
nowhere in Sussex at half past nine that evening (as the sun sets).
It might be a good day out; it
might not.
I got the dogs on to their leads
and drove out to Kings Wood. One of the geocaches I’d hidden there was broken
despite only having been there for a couple of weeks. We soon got out to it and
replaced it, then dawdled slowly back to the car. Some of us dawdled slower
than others. Fudge was particularly slow. I chivvied him a few times; at one
point he seemed to be worrying his paw. Had he hurt it? I couldn’t see anything
wrong with it.
Just as we were getting close to
the cars I saw a couple of people looking at their phones and looking at a rock
under which I knew there was a film pot. One of them had a trackable number on
her fleece. We got chatting; they had come over to the UK from Belgium for a
week of hunting Tupperware. They seemed rather pleased to meet the dogs. My
hounds would seem to be famous (or notorious) in geo-circles.
We came home. Bearing in mind
the walks we’ve done recently, a couple of miles round Kings Wood seemed to
have seriously tired the dogs. They were all soon snoring.
With them asleep I phoned the
hospital’s arse clinic. They’d sent me a letter telling me they’d made an
appointment for me to have a bowel screening. I couldn’t make the date they’d
planned, so I re-scheduled for a week next Thursday. They are sending me an
enema in the post with a view to shoving a camera up my jacksie shortly
afterwards. That will be something to look forward to.
I took myself off to bed for the
afternoon, then ironed some shirts whilst watching last week’s episode of “Jamestown”
in which Jocelyn’s bosom obstinately refused to heave at all. With ironing done
I watched an episode of “Fleabag” then looked at the letter from the
arse clinic people. Apparently I can’t do any foreign travel in the fortnight
after they shove the camera up my jacksie… I’d booked an appointment for a week
before "My
Boy TM"’s stag do in France. I phoned the appointment line.
This morning they couldn’t give me an appointment on the week I’ve got off work
in June. This afternoon they could.
"er indoors TM" will be home
soon. I’m hoping she’ll feed me before I have to go to the night shift.
I’ve spent the entire day with a
sense of feeling very guilty about something. I have no idea why. I wonder what
that is all about?
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