Despite the excitement of having family round I slept very
well last night. I would have slept better had my phone not started bellyaching
about wanting to have a virus scan at ten past five this morning. If it wanted
one that badly, why didn’t it just do one for itself? Did it really need to
bother me about it?
I got up, and eventually so did everyone else. Seeing there
was something of a delay, ably assisted by “Stormageddon – Bringer of
Destruction TM” I took my three dogs round to Dog Club. Grandson
had been keen to see Dog Club, and he seemed quite impressed with what was
going on. We had a decent turn-out of pups and the usual mayhem ensued. Mind
you when I say “mayhem” it was all good-natured mayhem. Loads of
charging about and playing and dog-piggybacks (!)
“er
indoors TM” and the rest of the tribe soon arrived, and “Darcie Waa
Waa TM” had a great time alternately chanting “dog dog dog”
at the assorted throng and snogging any dog which was daft enough to get too
close. Pogo was well-behaved and seemed to enjoy himself. Treacle had a first –
she played with another dog at Dog Club. Admittedly it was her brother Pogo,
but it was something of a result.
Ideally I would have stayed a little later at Dog Club –
there was to be a meeting of… I suppose “leaders” or “organisers”
isn’t really the right word. But apparently there was an “episode” at
one of the later sessions of last week’s Dog Club in which someone brought his newly
rescued dog along and then pissed off leaving it unattended. But what do you do
when that happens? When the chap who started the club isn’t at the early
session I suppose I am seen as “in charge” for the simple reason that I
hold the key to the gate. But most people arrive after I’ve opened and wouldn’t
know that. At the early session everyone keeps an eye on their own dog,
everyone seems to know what dogs are like, any “episodes” are nipped in
the bud (most of the time by Morgan having a time-out) and it all seems
to work. I suppose having smaller dogs makes it easier? But with having family
along and with having yet another one-day weekend I wanted to make the most of
the day. So I sent my apologies to the little meeting with the observation tat
I think the early session is running OK, and we cracked on with our day.
The girls and Pogo got into the “er indoors TM”-mobile,
“Stormageddon
– Bringer of Destruction TM”, the dogs and I into mine and we
drove down to Rye Harbour for a bit of a walk. We followed the path from the
car park to the river’s estuary and back again.
After our little walk “er
indoors TM” and “Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM”
went into the visitor centre to get a cuppa for us all. “Daddy’s Little
Angel TM” stayed outside with “Darcie Waa Waa TM”
and the dogs whilst I sulked. I’d suggested that we went to Rye Harbour in the
hope of seeing seals, but we hadn’t seen any. No one else seemed rather
bothered, but I was sulking. And then we saw one swimming about. I shouted to
the most recent fruit of my loin and she took a photo of it. Several passing
normal people heard my shout and came hurrying over, But they were too slow,
and were not at all amused when “Daddy’s Little Angel TM”
loudly announced “Bollox – it’s gone”. The look of shock on the faces of
the normal people gave me quite a fit of the giggles.
But
just as “er indoors TM” came back with our drinks, so the
seal came back, and we watched him (or her?)
swimming
about for five minutes whilst we had a cuppa.
If ever you visit Rye
Harbour I’m told that the visitor centre is a good place to see the seals
whilst relaxing with a cuppa. Mind you for all that the cuppa was rather good,
a cuppa and a bit of cake all round came to over thirty quid; they don’t give
it away.
I took a few photos of our little family
adventure. It was rather good, but (it has to be said) the photos of the
seal really don’t do it justice.
We
said our goodbyes; “er indoors TM” took the kids back to
Folkestone. I came home as I’m on yet another one-day weekend and had stuff to
do in the garden.
As I drove I realised
the car was quiet. I’d turned the radio off to talk with grandson… and I then
realised I’d missed one of the highlights of the week; Steve doing the Mystery
Year contest.
We came home. The dogs
were all soon fast asleep. I rolled out the pond hose and cleaned out the pond
filter. As I pootled I realised that the aerating mini-fountain in the pond
wasn’t there. After a bit of fiddling about I found it. Laying on its side on
the bottom of the pond. Had a fish knocked it over?
I made a cuppa, and as I watched another episode
of “Alice in Borderland” I felt a tad peckish. There was quite a bit of
KFC left over from last night’s tea. Warmed up chicken is good, but yesterday’s
chips?
I then had a (quite frankly) stroke of genius. With far too
many left over chips to chuck, I thought they might make the basis of a curry.
I put a pan of water on, ripped up all the leftover chips and chicken and
popped them in together with some ketchup, an oxo cube and all sorts of this
and that which I found in the fridge and left it simmering until “er indoors TM” came home.
It went rather well with some rice and a bottle
of Piesporter.
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