“Vienna” by Ultravox again woke me at the stroke of midnight. I shall take the CD out of the stereo tonight. I slept marginally better last night than I did the night before, but only marginally.
Over brekkie I peered into the Internet and saw the row on the hunting Tupperware page was continuing. It seems to me there are two sorts of people who have geocaching accounts. There are those who actually go out and do the hobby (and whose geo-score is consequently high), and there are those who only occasionally do the hobby (often preferring to argue about it on-line instead, and whose geo-score is consequently low). Those with low scores always use the phrase “it’s all about the numbers” as some sort of insult directed at those with a higher geo-score. It isn’t an insult that works, though. If you are going to go on a geocaching walk twice a month, bearing in mind that most walks have at least twenty caches on them you would expect your geo-score to increase by about five hundred a year. The chap mouthing off last night has found two hundred in eighteen months, less than twenty this year, hidden none of his own, and (like most keyboard warriors) never actually been to a meet-up. This is so typical of Facebook groups. No matter what the hobby (baking cakes, building Lego, garden ponds, being a Monty Python fan, testing blood, having dogs, peering through telescopes at space, going fishing…) there are those who haven’t actually done the hobby for months (if not years) but who just want an argument.
I did have some encouraging geo-emails this morning though. A couple of people had driven a hundred miles to Ashford yesterday to play some of my Wherigos. They said very nice things about them and gave out loads of Favourite Points. That’s what hunting Tupperware should be – having fun and not looking to make a squabble where there needn’t be one.
I then braved the weather and drove my car over to the garage for its service. I say “braved the weather”; there had been heavy rain when I’d got up but the rain had stopped. Usually I take the dogs with me to the garage and we walk back. I’d decided against that today because of the rain – the rain which had stopped. The BBC’s weather forecasting does leave much to be desired. A few weeks ago a group of us were sheltering from a downpour under a tree on the Romney Marsh when the BBC’s weather app said there was only a nine per cent chance of rain. When er indoors TM” picked me up from the garage we had no rain at all despite the BBC feeling there was an eighty per cent chance of the stuff.
Ignoring the alleged eighty per cent chance of rain we took the dogs for a little walk. We took the path up to Little Burton and came home via the vets (for dog weigh-ins). As we walked we met a blind Labrador. The dog was bounding about and sniffling about. Pogo and Treacle were both as good as gold with him; did they know he was blind, and were they making allowances? The nice lady with him said that the dog’s going blind was a genetic thing, and this made me think. Would I cope with a blind dog? I suppose so. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Much like poor little Sid was making the most of it right up until he couldn’t any more.
We were out for two and a half hours, walked nearly six miles and didn’t see a spot of rain.
Mind you I say “walked nearly six miles”; I got that from my Google Timeline. Have you ever looked at your Google Timeline? Call up Google Maps and click on “Your Timeline” from the drop-down menu. It has got a fairly good record of my movements since May 17 2014. I wonder why that day? – There is nothing on my diary to suggest why. But it isn’t perfect. It lists home as my most visited place in that time (which I suppose it is). However work comes in at both second and fourth place, and where I used to work come in at fifth and seventh place. How does that work? It lists Wye Downs as my eighth most visited place, and that *certainly* can’t be right. How can it seriously think I’ve been there more times than I’ve been to Orlestone Woods (which only managed thirteenth place behind Sainsbury’s and Morrison’s). However whilst it isn’t entirely one hundred per cent, I will certainly leave my phone at home should I ever decide I’m going to leave the house to murder someone.
Flushed with enthusiasm sparked by two people having travelled a hundred miles to play my Wherigos I then spent a little while thinking about another Wherigo series. I have an idea and a location.
“My Boy TM” then pulled up outside and (despite the traffic) we all drove out to Canterbury where we spent an hour inside the old jail. Quite literally inside the jail trying to get out. I’d never done an Escape Room before; it was being in an hour-long episode of “The Crystal Maze”. It was a shame we didn’t get out in the time allotted, but we had almost solved the puzzles.
From there we drove back to Ashford and went up to “Cinnamon Spice” for a bit of dinner. Perhaps my finishing off everyone else’s dinner was something of a mistake. I feel somewhat stuffed now…
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