With no reason to be up early I was wide awake about three hours earlier than I had intended. I gave up trying to sleep as my CPAP machine was making enough noise to wake the dead, and came downstairs. I was rather pleased to se no turds, and chivvied Sid outside where he crapped, then trod in it.
Over brekkie I watched an episode of “Big Mouth” then peered into the Internet. Last night I made a video of our adventure in the woods yesterday and had posted it on Facebook – several people had clicked the “like” button.
Recently my Facebook feed has been filled with adverts for ladies underwear, but today I was bombarded with adverts for beer. One of these adverts amazed me. Most of the beers for sale were about the same price except one. Ironically the one that was out on its own was the closest one to me. A new start-up in Folkestone was charging fourteen quid for three tins where everyone else had a going rate of twelve quid for eight bottles. A couple of people had commented on how expensive the Folkestone brewery was, and whoever it is that runs this new start-up had posted a little rant about supporting local businesses and paying their suppliers a fair price. Someone else can support this local business and pay their suppliers vastly over the odds. I don’t think I will be doing so.
I got dressed, woke the dogs, and took them down to Orlestone a lot earlier than usual. Checking the Internet I saw that we arrived a minute after sunrise. Without "er indoors TM" the dogs messed about far less. There was no jumping in the swamps. We did meet one other person – his dog was something of a “precious princess” but it all passed off without incident.
As I walked I was giving some thought to why we keep going back to Orlestone. What do I want from a dog-walk location? Principally somewhere that I can manage three dogs with minimum fuss. Somewhere that the dogs can jump from the car boot, run (about) two miles with not having to worry about crossing lanes and tracks and stiles and gates. Somewhere with no hills or farm animals or pheasants. Somewhere with a bare minimum of normal people. Orlestone ticks all the boxes.
We came home, had a bath and I popped up to town. On Saturday I paid one of the shops in the town to unlock my mobile phone. They told me they would be in touch by text within two days . Having heard nothing from them I eventually got the thing unlocked myself, and I went back to the shop today to see if I could get a refund. The chap behind the counter openly admitted he’d forgotten all about it, but flatly refused to give a refund. I wasn’t expecting one and (in all honesty) I’d written that money off anyway. But I’ve put in a complaint to the Trading Standards people just in case.
I came home via Asda. The place was heaving with young mothers all shrieking into their phones whilst their children ran riot. But it was the old bat in front of me in the queue that boiled my piss. Whenever she had anything to say (and she had a *lot* to say) she took off her face covering.
Once home again I made a cuppa and we scoffed the Belgian buns I’d got in Asda. It has to be said that I am quite the connoisseur of Belgian buns and (sadly) Asda’s aren’t the best. But it was better than nothing. As I scoffed I got on to Matalan’s website and ordered up the trousers that their shop didn’t have yesterday. I also made a start on getting my ENT appointment re-scheduled,
We then went out for a third time to collect "er indoors TM"’s car – she’d found someone to un-pogger the window, then I put “Trailer Park Boys” on Netflx and spent a couple of hours doing the ironing before falling asleep in front of the telly.
"er indoors TM" got fish and chips which we scoffed whilst watching the latest episode of “Star Trek: Discovery”. Now into its third season, the show seems to be either very good, or terrible. Tonight’s was rather good – if only for the blatant harking back to Captain Kirk…
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