Another reasonably good night. It would have been
better had I not had a flurry of text messages from six o’clock asking about "Daddy’s Little
Angel TM". I messaged her over brekkie and she seemed to be
on the mend. As I scoffed my toast I also had a look at Facebook and saw that
the photos and videos I’d posted yesterday had received a *lot* of “likes”
and reactions.
I saw
that I’d had a comment on the blog entry I made on May 30th. In my
world May 30th 2019 was rather dull. I walked the dogs, I found a geocache,
and I had a guts ache. However the daily round of “Lovely Czech Woman”
must be even more dull than mine. She’d said about that blog entry “Today, I
visit your website and after reading your blog i realize that it is very
informative. I'm highly impressed to see the comprehensive resources being
offered by your site”. That was very nice of her, but she then went on to
try to advertise various African tribal clothing. I deleted the comment; if any
of my loyal readers want to buy cheap African tribal clothing I’d suggest eBay.
And I
got a little bit cross. I had a flurry of “found it” logs on the series
of geocaches I’d hidden in Kings Wood. When you hide a geocache you live with
the constant worry of it going missing. A “found it” log tells you the thing
is still there… Or that is the idea. However when I looked closely I saw that
the logs I received this morning referred to finds made over two months ago.
One of the logs was about a cache which has subsequently been replaced twice.
Why do
people wait so long to write their electronic logs; especially when the entire
process of writing them can be automated and hundreds of the things can be
posted in seconds.
I got the leads onto the dogs, and we went for a
little walk round the park. We’d not done that for a while; it was just like
old times. The dogs were really good, we had no fights or squabbles at all. I
did think we might have had an episode with one of the normal people who was
flying a drone in the co-op field, but all three dogs ignored him and it.
We came home and I went round the garden harvesting
dog dung. Bearing in mind I did that yesterday afternoon I was amazed at how
much had been generated in the meantime. I can’t help but wonder if someone
else is hoiking their dog’s turds into my garden. Surely three small dogs can’t
make so much of the stuff?
Eventually the dogs settled, and (after a little pause for geo-reasons in Winchelsea) I drove down to Hastings; mum and dad wanted to see the photos of
last week’s wedding. I showed them all five hundred and seventy-odd photos.
They seemed impressed. Mum had put on a little bit of dinner; once we’d scoffed
we said our goodbyes and I headed home… via Doleham. There was a geocache there
which hadn’t been found for over two years. I parked the car, walked for half a
mile, and found it wasn’t there.
As I walked back to my car I saw the way was being
guarded by what I thought was a large dog. It wasn’t a dog; it was a large pig.
The pig seemed happy rooting in the grass, and fortunately totally ignored me.
I came home, and spent a little while pulling the
weeds from between the slabs in the front garden. It is a tedious job, but the
garden looked better for it.
And then I had a look at my wardrobe and decided
that I would ding out any item of clothing that I hadn’t worn in the last two
years – I have four black sacks of clothes to take to the tip tomorrow,
"er
indoors TM"
messaged – she’d just parked round the corner. Leaving the dogs asleep we drove
down to Folkestone for a flying visit. We came home via the chip shop, and with
the dogs fed we watched more “Bake Off – The Professionals”. The more I
watch that show the more I wonder if I might have been better off being a
professional baker.
Is it
too late to do just that?
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