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28 March 2024 (Thursday) - Posting a Turd

After a rather good night’s sleep I made brekkie and saw I had an email. Well, four emails. The geocache I hid yesterday had been accepted by the geo-feds. I had an email to tell me that the reviewer had accepted the thing, another to say that he’d written a note to say that he’d accepted it, another to say that my geocache had been accepted, and a fourth to say there was a new geocache in the area. Geo-HQ does fart about sometimes.
There was an interesting thread on one of the local Facebook groups about the best places to feed the ducks. Places in Maidstone and Hythe and Canterbury and Romney Marsh were being recommended… why did no one suggest any local lakes to which people might walk? I was reminded of a chap with whom I used to work who (as a matter of principle) would never buy anything from any shop within twenty miles of his house. He really did seem to think that the further away something was, the better it was.
I sent birthday wishes to one of my nephew’s three Facebook accounts
 
With rain forecast for later I got the dogs into the car and we set off for our walk. As we drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing Angela Rayner, the deputy leader of the Labour party. I can’t remember what she was being interviewed about; all I can remember is her voice. She doesn’t so much talk as shriek; she always reminds me of collecting the fruits of my loin from school when the mothers at the school gate were always screeching at each other over matters of utter triviality. You really would think that someone who is looking set for a position of real authority would have an elocution lesson or two, wouldn’t you?
We got to the woods and walked for just over four miles without seeing anyone once we were more than fifty yards from the car park. Mind you the car park was very quiet today. Half a dozen cars on our arrival and only eight when we left an hour and a half later.
We walked a rather different route to our usual ones. I’ve noticed that the dogs assume where we are going and occasionally walk a bit too far ahead, so I took a few surprise turns to keep them alert. I shall do this more often – back in the day Fudge became so set in his ways that we had to do the same walk every time as he would refuse to go any other way.
 
We came home, and after a cuppa and a croissant I set off to post a turd. Quite literally. I’d had a parcel through the post from the bowel cancer screening people. Would I please send them some turd? Personally I’d rather have cake, but if they want a turd, they shall have one.
I then drove to Folkestone through the rain. I found “Darcie Waa Waa TM having a bit of a melt-down, but she soon chirped up once we left her house. She seemed quite happy to tell me it was raining, and once in Taco Bell she munched on a cup full of ice; ignoring her taco-burrito thingy and chips. She seems to like cold. Me and “Daddy’s Little Angel TM” went with a volcano burrito (oh yes!) and Big Jake had a huge box of something or other.
Sadly for all that their food is rather good, the only pudding they do is churro. Which is dull. So we went over the road for McFlurries. It was at this point that “Darcie Waa Waa TM ‘s father pointed out that she bears a more than passing resemblance to Jimmy Neutron.
He’s got a point.
 
With scoff scoffed we said our goodbyes and I headed off to ByBrook Barn (which hasn’t been called that for years) to get some saxifrage. And rocks. And pot stands. And cake as well. I came home via B&Q where I got a trellis. I don’t actually want a trellis. I want the battens it is made out of so’s I can repair fence panels.
 
Getting the stuff into the house took some doing. I had to stop for a cuppa and some of that cake before cracking on in the garden. I lasted for two minutes before I gave up because of the worsening rain. Instead I cracked on boiling up dinner. It turned out rather well (he said modestly!)
We scoffed it whilst watching more episodes of “The Traitors: Australia” in which the contestants have taken to brandishing a lot more chest than they might do.
 
The word on the street is that volcano burrito has given “Daddy’s Little Angel TM” the two bob bits…

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