I woke
at four o’clock, and had this idea that I might slosh out my sinuses and go
back to bed. I squirted salt water up my nose and made myself feel incredibly
ill. Feeling nauseous and having given myself really bad toothache I lay in
front of the telly for half an hour until blood-stained salty snot stopped
pouring out of my beak.
I went
back to bed just before five o’clock and slept through until nine o’clock.
Over a rather late brekkie I peered into the
Internet. I saw that “Access All Areas” had been playing locally last night. I’d forgotten about that, but I
don’t think I would have been well enough to have gone anyway.
Seeing how the forecast rain had fizzed out, we
took the dogs round the park for a little walk. The walk went well; no fights
or scraps is always appreciated. We came home to a cuppa and a cake, and "er
indoors TM"
then drove off to Margate to visit "Daddy’s Little Angel TM".
I thought about going, but instead stayed with the dogs. I sat myself on the
sofa and sweated with a pounding headache.
I did a little more Wherigo programming to take my
mind off of feeling quite so grim, and by mid-day I was starting to feel more
human. I got myself a bag of crisps for lunch and scoffed it whilst watching
the last episode of “Pride and Prejudice”, then was struck with divine inspiration. As all else had clearly
failed, I re-read the instructions for this salt-water nasal washing malarkey.
It turned out I’d been using far too much of stuff that I had made to be far
too salty.
No wonder I’d been making myself ill.
I tried the required dose of one squirt of twenty
millilitres (*not* a pint) of stuff that was rather dilute (*not* “stronger
than the dead sea”) and it wasn’t entirely dreadful. I didn’t spend
the next hour in serious pain.
With nothing else on the agenda I then sat on the
sofa, and wrote more Wherigo for most of the day. I got to the point that all I
needed was to get one photograph of a final location and so I took the dogs out
to get that photo.
As we walked we had “an
episode”. Treacle stopped to have a dump. As I was about
to clear it up some chap came up the road with some rather odd-looking children.
The more weird-looking child tried to rudely barge through where we were
standing. “Look out” I said. “You are about to walk
through a load of dog shit”. The chap (who looked rather “special” himself) then got rather aggressive about why I was being nasty to his child.
Apparently it is every freak’s God-given right to blunder wherever the voices
in their heads should lead them. After a lot of squabbling this chap eventually
realised why I’d stopped the child, but he did say that he thought I hadn’t
been very clear in what I’d said, and that I’d offended and upset his child.
If any of my loyal readers know a clearer way of
warning about dog shit than saying “Look out! You are about to walk through a load of
dog shit”, please do let me know.
We came home, I incorporated that photo into the
Wherigo, and then I drafted a rather bitter whinge to put onto the local
geocaching Facebook page.
Basically someone had been having a dig (on-line) at a series of geocaches a
friend had hidden a little while ago. There seems to be a growth industry in
this, and (as is the case with most hobbies) the less someone contributes to a hobby, the more critical they are
of those who get off their bums and do things. Someone had boiled my piss
recently in this way. The chap who rattled my cage has only ever hidden
twenty-seven caches in total. Only one of these has been hidden in the last
seven years, and only three of them are still active. Mind you he’s found over
eleven thousand of the things. He certainly gets a lot out without putting
anything at all back in, doesn’t he?
In the past few weeks and months I’ve had my
failings listed and explained to me by several people of this ilk; those who’ve
found thousands of caches without putting out a single one.
Bearing in mind how few film pots are getting
hidden under rocks these days you’d think those who get their thrills from
hunting them wouldn’t want to discourage others from hiding them, wouldn’t you?
In the end decided not to post the whinge (even though part of me thought I should). Life is too short for squabbles.
And in closing today was National Grandparent’s
Day… did anyone else notice that one?
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