I woke just before six o’clock to the sound of a dog
heaving. I bunged Morgan out of bed and hurried him to he back door. I gave him
as long as it took me to have a wazz then called him back in again. We all went
back to bed, then just as I was nodding off so he started heaving again.
Fortunately “er indoors TM” leapt up to deal with
him this time. Unfortunately she came bad to bed with graphic descriptions of
what he had thrown up.
She later worked out that he’s been eating off-cuts of
electrical cables presumably left over from Monday’s episode. I thought I’d
cleared all of that up. I wonder where he found those?
I then lay awake until “er indoors TM” slept
through her alarm for the second time, then made myself some toast and had a
look at the Internet to see if I’d missed much overnight.
Facebook presented me with a memory. Eight years ago I
started my current job, and I posted a piccie of the hospital with the caption
“Right.... let's see how this pans out...”. It panned out rather well,
all things considered. These days I don’t have a rather petty manager ensuring
absolutely everything I do is double checked. If I am a few minutes late (not
that I am) there’s not a queue of people waiting to squeal me up to the
feds. If I am too ill to cover a night or weekend shift I now have management
that will organize cover; I don’t have to arrange my own stunt double.
There wasn’t much else going on on-line, but I had a
message from “Daddies’ Little Angel TM” whose mate is
getting a new pet. A marmoset which is apparently named “Marge”. I
suspect having a marmoset as a pet will be all very well until it is poorly,
and then finding a vet will be tricky, and finding one that doesn’t charge the
Earth will be even trickier. I remember many years ago a new girl at work
nervously asking me if it was true that I kept snakes. I said it was. She then
(even more nervously) asked if her boyfriend might come round to see
them. As the chap held a royal python he told me that he was a qualified and
practicing vet, and he lived in terror of anyone bringing him a sick snake. His
reptile studies at veterinary college had consisted of one afternoon
lecture, and he told me that the python
he was holding was the first snake he’d ever touched.
With rain forecast I made an early start and got the dogs
into the car before half past eight. I’ve been threatening to replace my
geocaches in Kings Wood for some time. Rather than one epically far-too-long
route of nearly nine miles and several Wherigo series I’ve planned out three
shorter walks of about five to six miles and several smaller Wherigo
adventures. Today I had a preliminary recce on one of the shorter walks – if it
all goes live it will be the “Bailey’s Bimble”; a series of simple
geo-puzzles over six miles. It took us just over two hours to walk, so what
with hunting for the caches and doing the secret geo-rituals and having a
picnic along the way, this should take people about three or four hours to do.
Our walk went well. As I plotted and made note and recorded
co-ordinates so Morgan chased shadows and Bailey rolled in fox poo and Treacle
wallowed in swamps. We only had one episode – after six miles and only a
hundred yards from the car park I lost Morgan. After five minutes of whistling
and calling, a passing Normal Person asked if that was my dog standing on the
path up by the car park. I got used to Fudge straggling behind that I just
can’t get my head around Morgan being in front.
We came home just as the forecast rain started. I fiddled
about with GSAK (it’s a geocachical thing) recording my morning’s
efforts, then had a Slimfast bar for lunch. It wasn’t very good, but I suspect
being six months past its best didn’t help.
I got out the ironing board and spent the afternoon ironing
whilst watching episodes of “Four in a Bed”. For all that I rarely go to
a B&B, I find this show captivating.
“er indoors TM” boiled up a pasta
bake which we scoffed whilst watching the latest episodes of “The Traitors”
and “Junior Bake Off”, and now I’m worn out. A dog walk, ironing, and
watching telly. It’s a tough life.
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