Having got to bed relatively early last night it was rather annoying to be wide awake at quarter past two. But I used the time constructively writing yesterday’s diary and posting nearly seventy photos (one at a time) to Facebook.
After a couple of hours I felt tired and went back to bed only to be woken by “er indoors TM”’s alarm. I decided against flushing it down the loo and went back to sleep again.
As everyone else did their morning ablutions I sat outside and had a cuppa and was rather pleased to see the bin men deliver a new bin. Not that we needed one, but it gave the dogs something to bark at. And as the bin lorry drove off into the distance I saw a hawk circling overhead. I think it was a red kite (but I could be wrong). It flew really low and slowly, and once I’d got my phone out to take a photo so it shot off upwards where it soared and hovered for fifteen minutes. It only went when I fetched everyone else to look at it.
Everyone else then made brekkie whilst I programmed “Hannah” for today. And having programmed “Hannah” for today, I then did it again (wrongly as it happened) having mistakenly programmed “Hannah” for yesterday.
Tracey set some laundry going in the washing machine. We were intrigued to see how it came out – the washing machine has a sign saying that it had been tested with water, but there was no mention of it having been tested with laundry.
We scoffed a very good full English brekkie, then got ourselves ready and set off to Folkingham.
We arrived, and with cars parked we set off on our walk. It didn’t take long to realise that I’d not quite got “Hannah” set right but we muddled through; despite nearly failing at the first hurdle. After less than a couple of hundred yards we found the footpath was impassable.
We managed to find a way round, and a bakingly hot day soon cooled and we had a good walk. As we wandered across fields and along lanes we watched the red kites soaring in the skies, and saw a deer in a copse.
Geocache-wise this wasn’t the best walk we’ve ever done. Fortunately the previous people to have walked the route had done a lot of geo-maintenance, but even so, a lot of the caches on this route had already been archived.
After seven miles we found ourselves back where we started and we did a little geo-field-puzzle round the village. Having been set some years ago, the clues we were searching for were missing. We gave up and retired to the village shop where we consoled ourselves with a bit of ice cream, and then went on to the local pub for a couple of pints.
Taking a minor detour to the co-op (for more port) we were soon home. There was a minor disagreement about the kitchen hierarchy. Who was head chef? Who was sous-chef? I was quite content to be potwash.
Karl cooked up some rather good burgers, and with them scoffed we sat in the garden and watched fighter planes from the local RAF station flying about; both actually in the sky overhead and virtually on “er indoors TM”’s phone’s radar app.
We then came inside for profiteroles and viennetta and more port… and I woke up at one o’clock to find everyone else had gone to bed.
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