27 March 2024 (Wednesday) - Banner's Arrived

This morning there was a message on my phone. Despite my having turned the wi-fi off before I went to bed last night, it had decided to scan the wi-fi at half past midnight and told me that it was safe to use. I wish it wouldn’t keep doing what it pleases.
I had my usual look at Facebook over brekkie. A friend who organizes Ghost Walks had been approached by the BBC asking if he knew of any haunted toilets. In one of the hospitals where I work there is a haunted toilet. Seriously!! For years there would be all sorts of toilet noises coming from the next cubicle even though no one was ever in it. After a few years I came out of that loo and turned left and left again (rather than my usual right) and found there was a ladies that I didn’t know about which was on the other side of the wall.
I’m rather disappointed that the loo wasn’t haunted…
I had some emails. The nice people at Credit Karma told me my credit rating was excellent, and my next update would be sixteen days ago(!) I also had a string of “Found It” logs from someone who had walked round my geocaches in Kings Wood and had found some of them. They’d also logged “Didn’t Find It” on six of them, so that was my morning sorted.
I picked up six replacement geocaches, loaded them and the dogs into the car and we set off to Kings Wood. As we drove I listened to the radio. It would seem that the general public’s satisfaction with the NHS is at its lowest ever. Public opinion is a fickle thing, isn’t it? A few short years ago the masses were on the doorsteps clapping like demented sealions about how brilliant the NHS was; now they think it’s a load of crap. The trouble is that the masses want more and more whilst spending less and less. Someone or other being interviewed on the radio hit the nail on the head. This woman pointed out that the NHS is a victim of its own success. Now that people aren’t dying of preventable diseases in their youth, and now they’ve seen the folly of smoking things which will kill them, people are living longer and longer. Money spent on curing patients with one set of ailments is effectively giving a whole load of patients with another.
Perhaps I have a vested interest, but for those who would find fault with the NHS I’d suggest going private and seeing how much that costs you.
We got to the woods and took a little walk around those geocaches which had been reported as being missing. Three were missing; three were exactly where they were supposed to be. Finding myself with a spare geocache in my pocket I found somewhere at the very far end of the woods where I could hide a new one, and hid it. To find it you need to solve a very simple puzzle.
We came home for belly washing, and I then painted the garden pond cupboard and the bench which goes by the pond. I used green as a bit of a contrast to the fence colour, but the green paint is a bit watery. Maybe after three of four coats it might look half-way decent.
I then made a start at disassembling the old garden table. It has to be said I never liked the thing, and I’m glad it’s gone. It was rather mildewed and mouldy. The new garden table arrives at the weekend apparently. The old one is in large bits at the moment. I got it so’s I could stack the components against the shed for disassembly, popped to the loo, and the rain started.
I’ll take it apart another day.
I then drove out to Henwood – the geocaching banner I’d ordered was ready. It looks rather good.
As the rain fell so I cracked on with ironing whilst watching episodes of “Four In A Bed” in which a pub with rooms, a glamping site, a castle and an American Diner competed. The people who ran the castle had been doing so for forty years and felt they would win because of their experience; everyone else had been in the game for only a few months. The people running the castle came last.
“er indoors TM boiled up a rather good bit of dinner which we washed down with a bottle of plonk whilst watching more The Traitors: Australiain which various idiots have to root out a secret cabal using nothing more than guesswork. It is strangely engrossing.

No comments:

Post a Comment