Sid is currently staying with us for a few days. His barking and chattering woke me, so I came downstairs to let him out thinking he was asking to go out. He wasn’t. He was telling me he’d already crapped on the floor. I cleared it up and sent him out for a tiddle, and left the door open for him. When I’d had my shave I saw he’d piddled on the kitchen floor despite having had the opportunity to go out.
I made toast, and peered into the Internet. There was quite a squabble kicking off on the Geocaching UK Facebook page. The specific details of this particular spat are irrelevant (and utterly trivial), but there is always a squabble kicking off on there. I drafted a little post pointing out that the whole idea of geocaching is that it is supposed to be fun but decided against posting it. For many people who visit the Geocaching UK Facebook page the fun is (sadly) in the nasty arguing. I nearly choked on my coffee when I read the phrase “…it's cheating the CO and other genuine finders who have made the effort to do it correctly” which had been written by the very one who had stalked my movements to claim First to Find on caches before they had even gone live. It is frequently said in geocaching circles that everyone plays it differently. And because everyone really does play it differently, everyone has the opportunity to claim that the way they play isn’t cheating. You wouldn’t believe just how petty people can get when hunting film pots stashed under rocks.
I saw a rather impressive photo of a wonderful model of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory made from Lego. And then I saw it again. And again. Pretty much every Lego related Facebook group I follow had this model featured.
I sent out birthday wishes; some days loads of people have birthdays, some days none do. Today was a “loads” day.
"er indoors TM" fed the dogs and we took them for a walk. Usually they have brekkie after the walk, but we thought that having food first might stop them all eating rabbit poo. It sort-of worked… mind you I’m not sure if Pogo hasn’t so much lost the taste for rabbit poo as much as has gained a taste for blackberries. He eats them from the bramble.
We came home; I had a cuppa whilst writing up some CPD. I thought about a little Munzee or geocaching mission before the late shift, but it was too hot. Instead I told the dogs off (about a million times) for barking at the nice fence man who was doing his thing in the garden until it was time to go to work.
As I drove to work there was utter drivel on the radio, so I turned it off and listened (howled along to) my rather odd choice of music. Realising I had a few minutes to spare I thought I might have a little Munzee mission after all. I parked up in Maidstone and managed to resuscitate seven of the things, getting myself a Munz-badge into the deal. When I was at the point furthest from the car I thought I might have a look at the geo-map to see if there were any geocaches on the way back. I was rather amazed to find I was only twenty feet away from one. I soon found it and did the secret geo-ritual... or as much of it as I could. The geocache was seriously broken.
It was at this point that I realised that maybe I should have stuck to my original plan of going straight to work. I was at the bottom of a hill, and when I got back to my car the thermometer in it said the outside temperature was thirty-four degrees.
I got to work where I had a rather good shift. It was a shame that my apparatus chose to have an issue, but it does that from time to time. When I phoned the blood-test-machine company for help I had a pleasant surprise. The chap at the other end of the phone sounded rather familiar; it was someone with whom I used to work when I was at Canterbury. With the issue sorted we chatted for a bit; both of us are glad to have got out of what was a rather nasty and toxic working environment.
It was a shame I was so late home… but that’s the late shift, isn’t it…
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