17 July 2022 (Sunday) - Still Hot

As I made my toast I listened to the boy racers speeding up and down the bypass. They were at it yesterday, as they have been every weekend for at least the last ten years (probably a lot more). You’d think the local police would do something, wouldn’t you? After all they’ve got an easy target. You can hear (from at least half a mile away) that the boy racers are there; you can put a police car at each end of the bypass… so why do the police allow this to continue? How many more serious accidents do the police feel is acceptable?

 

As I scoffed my toast so the wolf-pack came downstairs with a rather irate “er indoors TM. I’d not long let the puppies upstairs and despite having been into the garden to do that which puppies do, Bailey had still tiddled on the bedspread.

And I sighed as I looked at Facebook. There is a group I follow which is about the 1970s TV series “The Tomorrow People”. More than nine out of ten posts on my feed this morning were from this group. There is a chap who has screen-shotted every single frame of every single episode. He posts all of those with pictures of the half-undressed teenage boy stars to this group until someone or other complains, at which time he goes into Facebook Jail for a week or so, and then just carries on doing that which he has been asked not to do.

I also saw that friends had gone to the French Mega geo-event. We went to that four years ago. It would have been good to have gone this time (albeit a bit too hot though), but it would have taken some prior planning – not least of which would have been knowing that the thing was actually taking place. There was a similar event a few weeks ago somewhere else on the continent about which I knew nothing until after the event…

Am I being paranoid in thinking that more and more geocaching is becoming something for the in-crowd (of which I’m not a member)?

 

I drove down to Folkestone to collect “Daddy’s Little Angel TM, Darcie Waa Waa and Pogo. We had planned to return home via the McDonalds in the Orbital park, but seeing the traffic was queued back from there all the way to the motorway we drove up to the next motorway junction and got McBrekkie from the McDonalds by Dobbies.

We sat in the garden, McBreakfasted, and then had a rather sad ritual in which poor Squeak got buried. Having done all the groundwork on Friday the burial only took a few minutes, and now you wouldn’t realise there was a rat’s grave there. It just needs a good belt of rain to wash the new stones.

 

We looked after Pogo as  Daddy’s Little Angel TM and Darcie Waa Waa went to their friend’s littlun’s christening. There was so much we could have done this afternoon, but it was far too hot. I just sat in the garden reading my Kindle as the dogs slept and “er indoors TM tried to un-pogger the cooker.

Somehow or other she had put the thing into “safe mode”. I didn’t realise that cookers had a “safe mode”. Back in the day a cooker’s “safe mode” was “off”. I roughed it with a cheese and pickle sandwich, and prepared to resort to my emergency backup plan of having daughter and daughter-in-law feed me. Mind you I don’t think that either daughter or daughter-in-law were overly keen on the plan; the best offer I had was the promise of a lasagne in the post.

Fortunately “er indoors TM sorted the oven…

I’ve got to go back to work tomorrow…

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