I woke to the sound of some harridan shrieking in the street. There is a factory down the road where they refurbish mobile phones. A friend worked there once; he told me they are incredibly busy with shifts working round the clock. And quite often those starting at six o’clock in the morning walk down the road shouting at their mates who are only a yard or two away from them. And then (ten minutes later) those who finish at six o’clock in the morning walk up the road shouting at their mates who are only a yard or two away from them.
Usually we miss it all because the window is closed, but it is so hot we had the window open last night.
I came downstairs and hoiked Sid into the garden to do his thing, then (over a bowl of granola) watched an episode of “Good Girls”. It was rather rubbish in that the show’s producers hadn’t done their homework. When a pregnant woman has an ultrasound investigation of the unborn child, the probe is held against her belly. It isn’t rammed up her “lady bits”.
I then had my usual root around the Internet. For once things had been quiet overnight, Squabbling was at a bare minimum, and the few posts that had appeared on Facebook were just from random people showing their ignorance on political issues. I sent out a couple of birthday messages and checked my emails. I had a friend request through LinkedIn. Unlike many of the friend requests I get on Facebook, the sender of this request had kept her clothes on. However Elisa Robyn was offering “a blend of psychology and astrology to help me find, embrace, and live your soul's craving”.
That’s all I need…
And then my email pinged again. A new geocache not two miles away. I got myself organised and set off in hope of being first to find. It wasn't long before I was stomping about in the undergrowth. I took a while to find my quarry; when you hide a geocache you get to grade the difficulty from one (dead simple to find) to five (fiendishly difficult). This one was rated as "two", but had been hidden by someone who (in my humble opinion) rather underestimates the difficulty of her hides. She hides good caches, but they can be tricky to find. But after fifteen minutes of rummaging I had the thing in my hand. And I was the first one to find it too. Happy dance.
That's my FTF for this month sorted.
As I drove away I saw someone who looked incredibly like the local First To Find Fanatic pulling up in his car. Was it him chasing the FTF that I'd just got? I'll never know.
If I don't get to be first, I log the thing on-line anyway. But there really are some people who if they are beaten to the FTF, then they don't log at all. I've been first at a geocache before, seen one of the FTF-hounds approaching, but on seeing me they turn away and slink off in the hope that I didn't see them. The chap I *think* I saw today went out to my latest geo-series the other week, and on realising that he wasn't first he came home and never logged anything on-line. He did that out Sittingbourne way a while ago, and I'm sure I saw him driving out to Wye last month when I was driving home after finding an FTF. He never logged that one either...
Some people take this silly game *far* too seriously.
As I drove up the motorway I heard something that made me sit up and take notice. The Rear Admiral is currently with his girlfriend in her family's holiday home in France. When their holiday is over they may well find themselves facing a two-week quarantine. They didn't expect that when they went.
There was also talk of about how the official estimates of coronageddon have been wrong. It would seem that rather than a few hundred thousand, over three and a half million people in the UK had the disease (that's six per cent of the population). If this is the case then perhaps all the social distancing and mask-wearing might need to be re-visited as the virus might really be already everywhere?
I did my thing at work, and came home to find the fence was finished. I think it looks rather good. With posts at the same height and in a straight line it is a far better job than I could have done myself. Mind you it wasn't cheap. I have bought more expensive things, but not many. In fact I think this fence is the sixth most costly thing I've ever paid for, being outdone only by two houses and three cars.
Apparently during construction not-so-nice-next-door had words with the nice man who did the fence to ensure that he didn't replace any of the fencing on her side. That is "her boundary" and he was not to go near it. The next time she tries to blank me I will ask her when she is going to repair "her boundary". It is falling down and in far worse shape than the fence I just had replaced. I really would have paid for it to have been done (if only to ensure the dogs don't escape), but since she insists it is her boundary...
But now the fence is done, I've got to stop prevaricating with the garden. Everything has been on hold until it was done... now it is time to start sorting that garden out.
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