When we came home yesterday afternoon I had a
letter from the hospital about a pre-assessment appointment at a rather
inconvenient time. I spent an hour on the phone to them yesterday trying to get
through before the line went dead when they turned it off at four o’clock. This
morning I got straight through when I phoned over brekkie. I re-scheduled and
then scoffed toast, fed the dogs, and took them on an outing.
As we drove we listened
to “Desert Island Discs”. Today’s castaway was the vulcanologist Clive Oppenheimer who is the same age as
I am, and would seem to have a frankly dreadful taste in music. Much like
everyone on that radio show. Periodically I make a list of what tracks I’d play if I was the castaway.
We got to Kings Wood
and had our walk. Bearing in mind all the rain of the last few days we took a
relatively longer walk today following the gravelled track. As we walked we met
so many other groups of people. All with dogs on leads over a mile into the
woods. And all the dogs had yellow leads and yellow harnesses. Bearing in mind
the “Yellow Dog scheme”, I put my dogs onto
their leads at every encounter. And every time the other person cried out “my
dog is very friendly”. I told all of these people about the idea of Yellow
Dogs; a yellow lead, collar or harness means the dog may be nervous, in
training, recovering from an injury or illness or operations, being
rehabilitated or simply prefers to keep their distance from people and other
dogs. And consequently it means that other dogs should keep their distance.
Each person replied
that that they are constantly being told about the “Yellow Dog scheme”
but didn’t think it was for real.
We came home, had
bellies washed, then I made a cuppa and peered into the Internet, and did
something I’ve been meaning to do for years. Some time in 2020 (I think)
the button on my GPS unit broke. Over the last few years I’ve been bodging it
along; now to make it work I have to poke a pokey-thing through the hole to
make it work, and obviously it is no longer waterproof. Having been told many
times that I can send it back to Garmin for repairs I phoned the nice people at
Garmin today only to find they don’t do repairs any more. They will allow me to
trade in my current GPS for a new one and give me a thirty per cent discount…
or I could buy a new one even cheaper from the Ordnance Survey website.
In the end I went on to
eBay and bought a new button which I can glue into place on my currently
poggered one.
I settled myself in
front of the telly for the afternoon and watched episodes of “Four In A Bed”.
The first B&B was somewhere that specialised in welcoming dogs, and (needless
to say) was awash with dog hairs.
The second was run by
people who’d taken umbrage at all the dog hairs at the first place, made great
show of having high standards of cleanliness, but ironically had far more hairs
and stains in their bedding than anyone else had.
Having announced how
much experience they had in the hospitality trade, the third set made a total
arse of brekkie, and the woman running the fourth B&B told the second that
(judging by her appearance) she thought she had something wrong with her.
Which was ironic bearing in mind the one making the comment had a head which
was clearly several sizes too small for her body.
In some episodes of “Four
In A Bed” they all are good buddies; today’s episodes were brilliant; they
all hated each other and made no secret of it.
“er indoors TM” boiled up a very good
bit of dinner and when it was scoffed I shared cheese and crackers with the
dogs… I had the cheese; they had crackers. But they seemed happy with the deal.
“er indoors TM” is now watching Fred
Dibnah on the “Yesterday” channel. He’s jumped from Cornwall to Tyneside
in one change of scene… My Dad used to like the chap. So far I’m not keen.
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