10 March 2025 (Monday) - Rather Busy

I slept well. I stepped on the scales and saw I’d not lost any weight this week. Mind you bearing in mind the epic pig-outs of the weekend I suppose holding steady is something of a result. I made toast… as the toast cooks I usually empty the dishwasher. Someone (me) didn’t set the thing going last night. Woops.

 

As I scoffed my toast I peered into Facebook as I do. Quite a few people had “liked” and commented on what I’d been up to over the weekend. Such a shame that not many people had posted photos of what they had been up to. Either no one had done anything, or no one wanted to show the world their antics. A disappointment; being a very nosey person I love seeing what everyone else has been up to.

I had some emails. My credit score with Credit Karma has gone down. Meanwhile my score with Experian has gone up. How does that work?

 

I took the dogs up to Kings Wood for a walk. We parked in the lower car park as we’d had reports of missing geocaches near there. One was missing; we replaced it. The other was broken. Totally smashed. Someone found it laying on the ground in pieces on Saturday. I sighed and replaced it.

We then carried on with our walk. Unusually we didn’t see any deer; we’ve seen loads this year. The dogs didn’t roll in anything (swamps or poo), we didn’t see any normal people. The walk was rather uneventful.

And we didn’t even need a bath when we got home.

 

I had a quick cuppa then washed the car. As I washed so not-so-nice-next-door came out and started whinging about the nappies and cans of Red Bull which are appearing in her garden. She claims that over the last few months nappies and cans of Red Bul have been appearing in her back garden. She made a point of saying she wasn’t accusing us of flinging things over the fence, but she had no idea where they might be coming from. Quite frankly neither have I. I told her that we don’t drink Red Bull (which we don’t) and that when littlun stays, her nappies go in the bin. She saw the admission that we sometimes have a baby in the house as an admission of guilt, got into her car and went off.

I got the pressure washer out and cleaned up our front garden, and the garden of the next-door that I (allegedly) don’t drop nappies into. Nice-next-door was made up that I jet-washed her garden. It was no trouble; It’s such arse ache setting up the pressure washer that once it is all ready to go I might as well make full use of it. And with the front of the house cleaned I had a little go at jet-washing the stepping stones in the back garden, then topped up the planters with soil. They had settled somewhat over the winter.

 

“er indoors ^TM” called me in for a cheese sandwich, then I went back outside again. Last year “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” got me some rather pretty hummingbird garden ornaments which I put onto one of the garden planters. I potted some of the sweet pea seeds we saved from last year’s sweet peas, and then I reviewed the situation. There’s loads still to do in the garden. One of the stone planters we got from Whelans a few years ago is crumbling. Replacing that and re-potting what is in it needs to be my next project. Then I need to pull the weeds out of the other planters and top up the soil in them. The lawn needs mowing. And give it a week or so and I will need to be getting the pond going again. I’ve long-term plans to totally re-vamp the big garden fountain, the lawn needs feeding and mowing…

I decided to stop. If I do too much garden stuff I can’t move for a day or so. In retrospect I should have done semi-retirement thirty years ago when I was still limber enough to do all these jobs.

 

I made us both another cuppa, wrote up some CPD, and re-vamped the spreadsheet I use to monitor how much money I squander. I’ve had this genius idea that I might allocate a couple of hundred quid a month on petrol rather than starting off thinking I’ve more money than sense (which isn’t difficult) only to find I’ve no money to get to work because I blew all the petrol money on Lego.

As I re-vamped I had a phone call from Jonathan from the Three network. At the risk of appearing racist I would hazard a guess that he was no more a Jonathan than I am a Rashid. I let him waste ten minutes of his time going through his spiel as I looked up his number on Who Called Me. Apparently he number had been looked up over two hundred times and had been reported as a scam, so after I’d wasted more of his time I offered him a one-off deal. He could either get stuffed or piss off. He hung up; I blocked the number.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up fish and chips ten went bowling. I watched the last episode of “Star Trek: Discovery” which rather dragged on a bit and ended not so much on a cliffhanger as a disappointment…

A decent show ending doesn’t have you looking up on-line to find out what it was all about.

9 March 2025 (Sunday) - Munzee Event at Bluewater

I forgot something rather vital yesterday evening. I went to bed pretty much immediately after “My Boy ^TM” and ”Auntie Chel ^TM” left last night. I woke at two o’clock to hear voices downstairs. I completely forgot that Darcie WaaWaa ^TM” was coming for a sleepover. I came downstairs, and she immediately regaled me with a list of complaints and grievances about things her grandmother had told her off about and said she wasn’t allowed to do.

I left them to it and went back to bed. I heard them going to bed about half an hour later.

 

I dozed fitfully for the rest of the night; eventually getting up about eight o’clock. Bailey was with me. Morgan and Treacle had gone with littlun. I made toast, posted up yesterday’s diary, and had my usual look at the Internet. Four Facebook friends were having a birthday today; I sent out wishes. More people were whinging about Donald Trump. Admittedly there’s probably quite a bit to whinge about, but from the British perspective he’s not unlike Zaphod Beeblebrox who in the Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy was president of the galaxy. Zaphod didn’t so much wield power as draw attention away from those who did, and that’s pretty much what is happening in the UK right now. When did anyone last hear anything about what the Prime Minister has been getting up to?

 

It got to nine o’clock and I went upstairs where I could hear that “er indoors ^TM” and Darcie WaaWaa ^TM” were up and about. They came down and had brekkie. Littlun wanted “crocodile cereals”. Having absolutely no idea what they might be we showed her a box of something with a picture of a frog on it, and she seemed content.

We got dressed and ready and drove up to Bluewater where there was a Munzee event taking place. Geocaching events are good; people meet up and chat and have a good time. Munzee events are different. There’s pretty much no actual meeting up. You just go somewhere and munz like a thing possessed. And because the rules say munzees can be far closer together than geocaches, there’s a lot to Munz.

I must admit that my hopes hadn’t been high for today, but as there are rarely any Munzee events within striking distance of home we wanted to support it. Even if I did have visions of aimlessly wandering the paths round the car park.

 

We parked up and made our way to the Event Pin - a special Munzee put out for the day. And immediately my attitude to the event changed. As we walked we went past a lake where the model boat club were having a mini-regatta. And the Event Pin itself was in a little park. I had no idea the park was there. It was rather pretty and surprisingly large. There was a trail of posters about The Very Hungry Caterpillar. There were ducks. We went round the park twice before littlun had had enough.

I munzed over six hundred Munzees as we went. Cards, jewel shards, cogs, greenies, surprise wheels, gnomes, cakes, and even a rum qrate.  There were Munzees dotted all over the Bluewater shopping centre, car park and surrounding areas; we probably got maybe one twentieth of them.

 

We came home. The dogs slept. Littlun wanted to watch YouTube, or “Toobs” as she calls it. She particularly likes Papa Joel – a chap who makes videos for the under-fives. I find him rather irritating, but Darcie seems captivated with him.

After an hour of so “er indoors ^TM” woke me up to say that she was taking littlun home.

 

I spent a little while clearing the carnage she’d left. She does generate mess. Then I did a little CPD. Dull, but if I do five minutes’ worth a few times a week, when I get called up to show what I’ve done, then I’ve not got to blag anything.

 

“er indoors ^TM” came home with pizza which we scoffed whilst watching the final of “The Traitors US”.

Now that’s over we need to find something else to watch…

8 March 2025 (Saturday) - Dog Club, A Walk, Dinner, Games Night

As I rummaged round the internet this morning I saw a post from our local county councillor which really sums up our society. Over the last week or so there has been a lot of discontent on social media as many of the road’s main thoroughfares are blocked up with major road works. Our local county councillor claimed that the utility companies don’t need permission or authority to dig up a road; they can just get on and do it. And this is what had happened. With no overall planning half a dozen individuals have randomly made a unilateral decision. Each on their own probably did the right thing; together it was a disaster. Clearly the obvious fault here lies with whoever made the laws allowing this to happen.

This would be a job for our local MP… so the chaos will continue.

 

I went back upstairs and woke “er indoors ^TM” and the dogs. Morgan particularly takes some waking. In much the same way that some people aren’t “morning people”, Morgan isn’t a “morning dog”. Take our walks – if we go after ten o’clock he’s raring to go. Before then he needs to be chivvied out of his basket and once he’s out of the basket he will try to get back into someone else’s basket or bed.

And then my lap-top whinged and said I should use an original HP power lead. I use the one that the thing came with – what more does it want?

I gathered an frankly epic quantity of dog dung from the garden; you wouldn’t believe how much three small dogs generate. And we got ready for the off.

 

We drove round to Repton and Dog Club where there was already a queue forming to get in. Dog club went reasonably well; Rodney was a tad demanding, but that’s the sort of dog Rodney is.

 

From Dog Club we drove up to Badlesmere where we met Karl and Tracey and we set off for a rather good walk round the local area. It was a walk we’ve done a few times before. It was nowhere near as muddy as we thought it might be, and there weren’t any shooting parties in our way. It was a shame that there were some frankly feral horses in one of the fields through which the footpaths pass, but we got through.

After a few miles we were back where we started, and we had a very good dinner in the pub garden. Unusually the Red Lion in Badlesmere wasn’t completely full at lunch time. Whenever we’ve been there before at mid-day on a Saturday there has been standing room only. Today maybe only a third of the tables inside were in use, and we were the only people sitting outside. But three pints, two large ports, an all-day breakfast and bread pudding slipped down nicely.

 

Once home I reported the feral horses to the Rights of Way people, and with wasn’t long before “My Boy ^TM” and ”Auntie Chel ^TM”, quickly followed by kebabs. We had a rather good games night. Sorry, Hungry Hippos, Game of Life…

 

I took a few photos of today – I’m going to bed. I’m worn out.

7 March 2025 (Friday) - This n That

I woke at one minute to four this morning feeling like death warmed up. I lay in bed for half an hour feeling like death warmed up, then had this idea that I might chirp up if I got up.

I made toast and scoffed it whilst watching an episode of “Star Trek: Discovery”, then had a little look at the internet in case anything had happened overnight. Not a lot seemed to have kicked off on social media really, but there were a lot of photos of yesterday’s “World Book Day” events in which children had gone to school dressed as their favourite fictional characters. Back in the day children were taught to read; now they are taught to get their mothers to dress them up as their favourite TV character and hope there's a book associated with it, safe in the knowledge that no one else knows whether there is or not.

It’s as well this never happened thirty years ago – my two would have gone to school in their usual attire and would be “the children whose daddy couldn’t be arsed”.

As an avid reader it bothers me that people don’t read books (or e-books) any more. Another thing along these lines which boils my piss is "graphic novels" - another word for "comic books".  People who can't be bothered to read a proper book pretend that comics are literature. These things were then largely superceded by audio books in which people actually read the story out so you didn't even have to pick up a book (comic or otherwise). 

World book day... this ain't helping my blood pressure, is it?

 

I set off to work via the petrol station. There was quite the queue in the kiosk. Only one till was open.  The miserable old bat was quite openly bimbling about straightening the price labels on the shelves and busying herself with similar trivia whilst sneering as the queue grew.

 

I listened to the pundits on the radio as I drove up the motorway. Again everyone seemed incensed at the antics of Donald Trump. Again everyone seemed to be missing the point. Previous American presidents have seen their role as being the leader of the western world. It's pretty plain that Mr Trump sees his role as being that to which he was elected; president of America. What he does which so incenses international commentators is being done to impress those who might vote for him. He don't care about international opinion, and why should he? There's no votes in that.

 

I got to work and did my bit. I helped one of the bosses set up her own CPD blog. And now she's recording her CPD on-line I shall shamelessly blag her efforts. And there was doughnuts at tea time... I had one - two hundred calories, and (at the risk of appearing ungrateful) it wasn't really anything special.

And I did some e-learning - Understanding sexual misconduct in the workplace. I got 100%. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up bangers and mash for tea which we scoffed whilst watching more of “The Traitors US” in which I was so pleased to see the stupid one getting voted out. Mind you when I say “the stupid one” I’m not narrowing it down much. This particular one didn’t so much converse with the other contestants as massively over-react and then pull stupid grimaces at the camera.

I must admit that I took an instant dislike to this one at the start and I’ve been watching it ever since pretty much waiting for her to get the heave-ho.

Now that she’s gone I’m not really fussed about the rest.

 

I might have an early night – that early start is certainly taking its toll…

6 March 2025 (Thursday) - Farm, Woods, Ironing

What with work-related disasters I didn’t get to bed till gone midnight last night, but I didn’t sleep well. I finally nodded off just before the alarm went off. I made toast and had a look at the Internet. I’m reluctant to jump on the bashing Donald Trump bandwagon for the simple reason that I’m not American, but apparently he’s been ranting about transgender mice. What he actually meant was transgenic mice. Completely different. You’d think someone in his position would take a little trouble to research what they are ranting about, and try to avoid making a tit of themselves, wouldn’t you?

 

I left home rather early to try to avoid the traffic. As I turned right at the end of the road I very nearly killed an idiot motorcyclist who overtook as I was turning.

I eventually got out of Ashford; the roads were mayhem. I got to Folkestone where I collected “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM”  and Darcie WaaWaa ^TM”. Littlun was rather excited and told me we were going to see some piggies.

We were.

Badger’s Hill Farm is the place I took Darcie the other week only to find they were closed. Having determined they would be open we went back today. We went there many years ago when grandson was small and I can remember having a good time. We had a good time today, but I can remember there being far more animals when we went there last time. My diary from the time mentions llamas and maras that weren’t there today.

Mind you, we couldn’t really complain as seeing the animals was free. And because it was free we felt we ought to spend some money in the café. That wasn’t free. An ice cream for littlun, coffee and cake for the bigguns gave us precious little change out of twenty quid, and I was asked how much of a tip I would like to leave them.

A tad cheeky…

 

I dropped the girls home, then came home, collected the dogs and took them for a walk rather later than we might usually go. Bearing in mind we had no time pressures and how muddy Orlestone had been this week, we went to Kings Wood. We had a good walk. We saw some idiot woman struggling to control her Alsatian. We’ve seen her before; she always has the dog on a really short lead and it pulls her all over the place whilst she shouts swear words at it. We gave them a wide berth.

We also saw a load of deer which Morgan and Bailey chased for maybe twenty yards before losing interest.

 

We came home again. No day not at work is complete without doing the ironing, so I ironed. As I cracked on I watched episodes of “Four In A Bed”. As always this show didn’t compare like with like. It started off in a bed and breakfast which looked like it was run by your favourite auntie. The next place was run by a pair of crackpot vegetarians (complete with frankly ridiculous beard) who made great show of only serving vegetarian food, but specialised in eggs (?). The third place was the sort of place my parents would have frequented many times – a Scottish hotel specialising in coach parties. And the last place was a restaurant which offered accommodation which was run by a chap who massively underpaid his competitors in a shallow attempt to win.

 

I munzed and wordled rather later than usual, then checked my emails. Disaster. Regular readers of this drivel will know that the title picture of this diary changes every few months. The background is always from photos of places that I’ve been, with the title and a favourite quote. I’m quite a fan of Jerome K Jerome – have you ever read his books? You should… I digress.

I make this little piccie using Microsoft publisher. But Microsoft are discontinuing publisher in the next few months. They told me that there wasn’t anything I could do in publisher that I couldn’t do in Word or PowerPoint.

I farted about and made the current piccie using PowerPoint. Back in the day I was rather good with PowerPoint; I seem to have forgotten all about it. But what I came up with wasn’t *that* bad for a first attempt.

And then I had a little realisation… the first piccie like that featuring as the title of this diary read ”… aged 42 1/2”

 

As “er indoors ^TM” boiled up dinner I put a third load of washing in to scrub. Dinner was rather good; we scoffed it whilst watching more of “The Traitors US” in which various wannabes competed for massive amounts of money presumably to pay for their next face-lifts.

 

I’ve had a rather busy day. I’m worn out…

5 March 2025 (Wednesday) - Another Late Shift

I had a good night’s sleep which was something of a result. I made toast and sent out birthday wishes to one of two Facebook friends having a birthday today. The other was a chap with whom I used to work who died five years ago. This morning social media was rather dull. No one was really arguing. There were a lot of rants about the traffic in Ashford though. The obvious answer is to formally contact the local county councillor and the local MP and ask them to identify the manager of the individuals responsible for the traffic balls-up and have them dismiss the incompetent, but people would rather rant on social media than talk with anyone who might be able to prevent a reoccurrence. There was also a lot of shouting about American politics. Again it probably needs shouting about, but in the right quarters.

 

I munzed, wordled, and went to wake “er indoors ^TM” and the dogs who had overslept. Once they were all up and about and had scoffed their brekkie I took the dogs out. We went to Orlestone again as it is easier when I’m pressed for time. Mind you there’s two issues with Orlestone Woods. Yesterday I mentioned the first problem; the mud. The second problem is the dogs’ behaviour. There’s something about Orlestone Woods which makes them willful. Not naughty, or seriously disobedient. But wilful. If they find something foul in a hedge they simply won’t come when called. If they chase a bird or a squirrel, they won’t come back. They vanished for a full five minutes this morning. Their behavior is far better in Kings Wood.

 

As we drove home the pundits on the radio were talking about a school in Lincolnshire where the head teacher has had all the mirrors removed. Apparently mirrors encourage the kids to spend too long in the toilets and make them late for lessons. But what boiled my piss was the announcement by some psychologist who said that although schools have a right to institute rules, children should be part of decisions. And that is where society has gone wrong. Children should shut their rattle, do as they are told, and fear the consequences. And then maybe decent people wouldn’t be scared to walk the streets.

 

Pausing only briefly for a quick cuppa I set off to work and in a moment of absent-mindedness I drove straight past the co-op. I kept going - there was (and is) another a mile further along the road. Or so I thought. The shop I went to had the same co-op name and what looked like the same signs. But they wouldn't accept my co-op card. It turns out there's two shops in Ashford operating under the name of "co-op" but far from being co-operative, they are actually in competition.

 

As I drove up the motorway I spent far more time in the fast lane than I would have liked. What with caravans being towed and mobile homes and speedboats being transported there was a lot needing space today.

Unlike yesterday the tyre pressure warning didn't kick off. I'm hoping yesterday's pumping did the trick. Having said that, something is periodically rattling underneath the car. 

 

I got to work and did my thing. Another late shift, and not a bad one either right up until going home time. And then there was one of those things that make hospital work so interesting (!) and I was an hour and a half late getting out.

It would happen when I’ve got an early start in the morning.

4 March 2025 (Tuesday) - Late Shift

I had something of a restless night. When Treacle sleeps at the bottom of the bed there is room for all. When she sleeps between us there isn’t room for anyone. Morgan and Bailey both curl up into a tight ball when they sleep; Treacle sprawls out to take more space that would ever seem possible.

 

Over brekkie I peered into the Internet. It was still there. Today’s petty squabble was on one of the aquarium-related Facebook pages in which some people were advocating spending an awful lot of time and money buying all sorts of chemicals and testing kits to get your fish-tank water to be what they considered perfect. And having done that they felt that after a week you should chuck out half the water, top up from the tap and start again with the chemicals and the testing. Others were saying they’ve never added a chemical or done a test ever, and just top up the tank when the water evaporates a little. People on both sides of the quarrel were getting really nasty with each other; and people on both sides seemed to be keeping rather impressive fish tanks.

I was reminded of my days in keeping snakes, Star Trek fandom, kite flying…many people would rather argue with others than learn anything from anyone else.

 

And not wanting more arguments I decided against posting anything to the local geocaching page. I had several emails from people who’d been out yesterday finding the geocaches I’d hidden in Kings Wood and had found some of the paper logs were damp. This could only happen by people not taking the time to do up the lids. A trivial point, but I will now have to replace those paper logs sooner rather than later.

 

I munzed and wordled then took the dogs out for a walk. Not having that much time today we went to Orlestone. On our morning walks we don’t get back from Kings Wood until half past eleven at the best of times, and Ashford is one huge road works at the moment. So many major thoroughfares in Ashford are either closed or subject to traffic lights. I’d like to think that there are valid reasons for the current traffic chaos which has been going on for some time. However I suspect that it is due to incompetence on whoever plans road works; if indeed there actually is any planning.

We got to the woods and had a good wander. Orlestone is good for a shorter walk; traffic allowing we can get there, walk for a couple of miles and be home again within the hour. It’s only a shame that for much of the year there are two unavoidable mud-swamps.

 

We came home for belly washes and removal of fox poo. I made a cuppa for me and “er indoors ^TM”, did some CPD, and set off for the late shift.

 

The roads were a lot quieter as I drove off to work than they had been when we went to the woods. Pausing only briefly at the co-op for a sandwich I was soon on my way up the motorway singing along to Ivor Biggun songs.  

Suddenly my car beeped at me. It had detected a loss of pressure in the front left tyre. It does that periodically. It means that either I've got a puncture, or it needs some air. I came off the motorway a bit early, found a car park, and checked the pressure. I checked all four tyres. The one that supposedly had the issue was actually the one with the highest pressure. What was that all about? I gave them all a bit of a pump, then drove on to the late shift which was nowhere near as bad as Sunday's had been. Though to be honest week-day late shifts are better than weekend ones as I have some company and assistance.

As I worked I had a message from the doggy dentist. Bailey is now booked in to have her cakehole serviced... whether she likes it or not.

 

My car beeped on the way home too, and panic set in. But nil desperandum – it wasn’t the tyres. The car was warning me it was cold. It does that as well.

3 March 2025 (Monday) - Rather Busy

I stood on the scales this morning as I’ve been doing every Monday morning for the last few weeks, and saw that I’d shifted two more pounds. The blood pressure remains pretty much unchanged though…

I made toast and had a look at the Internet. Again social media was alive with memes and posts about Donald Trump, and again there was pretty much nothing at all about yesterday’s summit meeting in which various other western leaders got together and decided how the war in Ukraine might be sorted. Sadly their plan to “sort” it was little more than continued support for a war which will just go on and on, and they too called for American help. And there was no mention at all about Mr Zelensky’s meeting with the King.

Someone with whom I used to work was having a birthday today. They’d told Facebook they were seven years younger than they actually were, What was that all about?

 

I took the dogs out. When we left home there were no end of parking spaces to be had. I sighed. We walked to where I’d parked when I came home last night (three streets away) and set off. We left Ashford in thick fog, but by the time we got to the woods the fog had lifted.

As we walked so Morgan dived into a bush and came out looking very pleased with himself and carrying something. Bailey ran up to him and took that something off of him and ran off. I eventually caught her. Morgan had found (and she had stolen) half a deer’s leg complete with fur and it still had some meat on it.

I found myself wondering where that had come from. A deer, obviously. But whether the deer had been taken down or died of natural causes, something had pulled the leg bone from the carcass, and pulled off the lower part. Could a fox do that?

I eventually got the bone off of Bailey and buried it as best I could. After the dogs had dug it up three times I threatened them that if they dug it up again they would go on their leads, and they left it. They clearly understood what I was saying.

Shortly after that I heard a commotion in the woods. Some live deer ran past, including a white one. There’s been reports of white deer in the woods before, and now I’ve seen one.

As we walked I looked at a couple of geocaches that I hid there a couple of weeks ago. One of them had acquired a “did not find” log. I found it. The other one… I’d been told that it was still there at the base of a tree, but the tree itself had been sawn down in ongoing forestry work. And it had. Most of the tree was gone, but the cache was still where I’d left it.

 

We came home for a cuppa. I munzed and wordled, then had a little pootle in the shed gathering up rubbish.

And then I drove Treacle to the dog dentist. The vet hadn’t been impressed with the state of her gob when she had her check-up the other week, and had suggested a dental scaling… for at least four hundred quid (and probably more) depending on what they found in her gob. I was reminded of poor Sid needing dental work doing and “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” getting quotes. As we’d driven the other day I saw a “Doggy Dentals” van. They offered “non-invasive ultrasound teeth cleaning” and ”anesthesia-free, effective plaque and tartar removal” for less than a quarter of what the vet wanted.

The dog dentist lady had a go at Treacle’s teeth with an ultrasonic toothbrush, then got out some metal implement and spent fifteen minutes scraping her teeth. Treacle was as good as gold and didn’t put up a fight.

I’ve booked her in for another session in six months time.

 

We came home. I loaded the car ready for the tip run, then got out the drill. One of the planters in the garden had flooded. It flooded last year as well. I’ve been meaning to drill a drainage hole in it for a year, and I finally got round to it.

I then drove to the tip, unloaded all the rubbish, then came home and spent a few minutes pruning in the garden before falling asleep on the sofa. I had intended to pressure-wash the front garden and do the ironing. Oh well; those jobs will keep.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner then went off bowling as she does. I settled in front of the telly.

Yesterday was a bit dull. Today wasn’t.

2 March 2025 (Sunday) - Late Shift

I was woken by Morgan trampling over me at four o’clock. He jumped off the bed and I chased downstairs after him to let him out. Dogs don’t understand baking it until the morning.

I got up properly at half past eight and had my usual rummage round the Internet as I scoffed toast. Several people were posting to Facebook pretending to be Welsh in honour of yesterday being St David’s Day. So many people claim to have some Celtic ancestry about which they say absolutely nothing until everyone else talks about theirs. Interestingly no one at all was posting about the Ukrainian President’s visit to London yesterday. You’d have thought that after all the groundswell of opinion in favour of him after the disastrous meeting with Donald Trump, people would be interested in him. Wouldn’t you?

I had quite a few emails too; people had been out looking for the geocaches I’d hidden in Kings Wood, and were saying nice things about them.

 

I tested out my new way of Munzing, and it worked rather well. I got Wordle on the fifth attempt, and then sighed. The plan for today had been hosting a brekkie meet with friends, but friends had double-booked themselves. Seeing the glorious weather outside, today would have been good for a long walk but I was on the late shift. Instead I put a load of washing in to scrub, wrote up some CPD, did the dogs’ flea treatments and then braced for a battle. Getting the worming tablets down the dogs’ necks isn’t always easy. Today it went very well. We broke the tablets into pieces, wrapped each piece in a slice of ham, and the dogs yummed them up.

 

I hung out the washing, and set off to work. I don’t work anywhere near as much as I used to, and I’m far happier in my work than I ever used to be. But I still resent working at the weekends; especially when it isn’t pouring down with rain.

As I drove to work the Archers Omnibus show was on the radio, The Archers? Seriously? Who listens to that these days. Amazingly a quick Google search showed me that the Archers has (on average) more than a million more listeners than Eastenders has viewers.

 

Work was hard work. Back in the day hospitals were effectively closed at the weekends, but not any more. It’s only a shame that the staffing levels haven’t remotely kept pace with workload.

And a shame I had to work today… the highlight of the day was giving the dogs a tablet each.

1 March 2025 (Saturday) - Rather Busy

I slept well. As always I peered into the Internet as I scoffed toast this morning. A few Facebook friends were having a birthday today so I sent out wishes. One of my mates having a birthday was an old school friend. We went to Boys Brigade together where he fell for all the religious indoctrination and he’s now a mad-keen Baptist minister in the West Country. Periodically we exchange messages; he seems quite happy, but I do feel a sense of guilt about how he’s ended up.

Quite a few people were ranting about Donald Trump as well. Mr Trump met with the Ukrainian President yesterday and the meeting didn’t go well.

I can’t help but feel that Mr. Trump didn’t say anything that really didn’t need saying. The trouble is that opinion about him is so polarised that he was totally the wrong person to say it. I’ve mentioned before about how ungrateful the Ukrainian president has been ever since the start of the war, and yesterday he was told some home truths. There’s an old proverb about not biting the hand that feeds you; it is rather apposite here. Mr Zelensky should really have done his homework, seen what he would be dealing with, gone along and sucked up. That would have worked in his favour.

 

I munzed and wordled, then went round to Dog Club. I was rather miffed to find that the poo bag from last week was still hanging on the fence from where I had tied it last week. The arrangement has always been that I open up and put up the poo bag. I leave the gate unlocked and the poo bag in place for the later groups and someone else locks up and takes the poo to the bin. It turned out that the lady who usually shifted the dung wasn’t along last week, and no one else could be bothered. Presumably someone locked up? I hope so.

But we had a rather good session; I counted twenty-two dogs at one point. Treacle was grumpy; Treacle often is. Morgan wasn’t happy though. With “er indoors ^TM” at craft club, Morgan spent the first half of the session watching the gate and crying.

As we drove home I caught the end of the Mystery Year competition on the radio. “Birdhouse in your Soul” by “They Might Be Giants”. I thought it was 1989. I was one year out. And then the news came on saying how President Zelensky has made all sorts of public announcements of gratitude to the people of America. Perhaps he’s listened?

Once home I made a cuppa and counted up the Dog Club money, pocketed the cash and transferred fifty quid to the Repton people’s bank account. I’ve now got another pocket of change.

 

I hoovered. As I hoovered so not-so-nice-next-door came out to her car which was parked outside. There were cars parked rather close in front and behind of it. She glared at them, glared at me (as though I was somehow responsible) and went back inside; not even attempting to move the car.

I then had a minor pootle round the garden. My peonie has croaked, and one of the large ceramic pots has started crumbling.

 

“er indoors ^TM” came home and sorted us a spot of lunch, then we had a little look round the garden centres. The idea was to get some replacement large pots. Ideally a square one as that would fit the space of the broken one better.

I saw exactly what I needed in Bybrook Barn, but they weren’t giving them away so we thought we’d try the little flowerpot-selling place in Challock that was closed. Had we known that they were closed we wouldn’t have tried there. Dobbies had much the same as Bybrook Barn, but were charging more, and Ham Street garden centre didn’t really have much at all.

We came home, had a cuppa, and I went on Amazon and ordered some planters for half the price of the cheapest garden centre.

 

I then had a think about the Munzee map. You can munz a physical Munzee if it is within three hundred feet of you. So I had a look at the map, found two more places up the alley round the back of the houses over the road where I might stick a Munzee, and then created a PDF with piccies of all of them.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled a rather good bit of dinner which went down with a bottle of the red stuff as we watched more episodes of “The Traitors US” in which the traitors were at each other’s throats, and sadly her with the chest got the heave-ho.

Not the decision I might have made…