As I scoffed my toast this morning I sniggered
at this morning’s petty squabbling on Facebook. Someone or other had pointed
out a discrepancy in the fifty-year-old sci-fi show “Space 1999” in that
the scenes filmed inside the cockpit of the eagle spaceships showed that the
shape of the inside of the cockpit bore absolutely no relation whatsoever to
the shape of the outside. A trivial point – does it matter? Clearly to many it
did and there was quite a bit of consternation and a lot of hard feeling being
banded about.
And on another page
someone was bemoaning how difficult it was to find the original radio
broadcasts of “The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”. Others were
claiming it was rather easy, but no one was posting any links, preferring to
argue instead.
Some people really will
quarrel about anything.
With rain showing no
sign of letting up I thought I might review old haunts. Back in the day I used
to take my little Fudge to Viccie Park all the time. But I rather gave up on
the place when Pogo came to us for an extended holiday; he could be something
of a nightmare round the park, and being a stocky lump all the normal people
thought he was a rottweiler or some other dangerous breed (as opposed to the
pug/spaniel cross that he is).
Perhaps the rain work
in our favour keeping the normal people away, but our walk went well. There was
no belly-deep mud or fox poo or (surprisingly) no squirrels. There was
quite a few new streams and ponds, but the dogs stayed out of them. We met
OrangeHead and chatted for a bit. She sang the praises of the new café in the
park, and when we went our separate ways she was incredibly impressed with how
the puppies came running to me at the sound of my whistle. To be honest it is
rather impressive to watch… when it works.
We came home and I made a cuppa for me and “er indoors TM” and I then
sat on the sofa with dogs snuggled up and sleeping next to me whilst I fiddled
on the lap-top. Getting small geocache containers for my March geo-meet, paying
dog club money to the paddock’s owner, vaguely thinking about another Earthcache,
planning for the weekend, and doing some CPD until it was time to go to work.
Just as I was about to walk out of the door so my phone
beeped. our Munzee Clan has achieved our second target of the month and as a
reward I got a crossbow, a longsword, a western zodiac and a submarine too.
There's never a dull moment in Munzee, you know.
The rain had got worse since we went to the park; I drove
through a very miserable morning to the petrol station, and then up the
motorway singing along to Ivor Biggun songs as I went. Seeing the traffic
queued down the slip road onto the motorway at junction five I drove on to
junction four and came to work from completely the wrong direction along the
M20. Why was the road so busy? I have no idea.
Work was work; it usually is. But there was shortbread at
tea time. Admittedly not cake, but it went down the same hole, and went down
very nicely too.
I had a message from “er indoors TM”.
Once she'd finished work she took the dogs out. As it was dark they all wore
their light-up collars (the dogs that is, not “er indoors TM”).
The idea of the light-up collars is that you can see the dogs and don't lose
them. All three dogs came home, but Bailey's collar didn't. If you see a very
small light-up collar on your travels...
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