I probably shouldn’t have had quite such a doze after
yesterday’s little get-together in the garden; I was wide awake for much of
last night.
The internet was dull this morning. Other than photos of
the Mayor-Making ceremony at Rye, seemingly no one had done anything on
yesterday’s Bank Holiday. However I was presented with an advert for the Leeds
Building Society… out of interest I had a little look-see. I used to have an
account with them. Now their nearest branch is nearly fifty miles away.
I made a list of the geo-maintenance that needed doing in
Kings Wood, Munzed, got Wordle on the sixth attempt (“suite” but it accepted
“shite” as a word), and went to wake everyone else up.
With the dogs fed I walked them seemingly miles to where
I’d left the car after Sunday’s late shift and we then drove up to the woods.
As we drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing Mike Amesbury. The chap
was a Labour MP until he got into a fight with a constituent after a night on
the sauce, and subsequently went to prison. The chap was quite open about now
realizing that he has mental health issues. The interview was quite frank, and
quite interesting. And quite sad. Going to prison puts the tin lid on any
political career, and he was telling the interviewer how politics was his life;
being both his hobby and his job. And now he is at something of a loose end.
We got to the woods and went for a little walk. I’d had
reports of issues with four of my geocaches. I was reliably assured that two
were missing. They weren’t. There were apparently two perfectly good pots at
another cache location, and a fourth one was supposedly broken. And, sure
enough, there were two pots at one location, and another cache about half a
mile further on was broken. So I took the extra cache and put that where the
broken one was. Sorted.
As we walked so Treacle was carrying a stick as she does. I
thought nothing of it until she dropped it and it didn’t sound right as it hit
the ground. I looked – she was carrying another deer bone.
We came home. Leaving the dogs with “er indoors TM” I
drove down to Folkestone with the garden strimmer and sorted out “Daddies’
Little Angel TM”’s front yard. I loaded the wreckage into
the car and set off to the tip… and then realized that because of the stupidity
that is booking appointments I had nearly two hours before my allotted time. So
I went on a little geo-mission and found a virtual compass, matchbox jeep and sextant.
I was still an hour early at the tip, but the nice tip man
wasn’t fussed. There was only one other punter there. And he said I didn’t have
to pay. When I’d booked the appointment I’d been told in the confirmation email
that I’d have to pay a tenner because the waste I was bringing did not
originate from within the Kent administrative area. Even though it did (!)
I came home, and spent a few minutes putting away the
chairs we’d got out in the garden yesterday. And I had a little look at the
garden table. The thing had given a rather worrying wobble yesterday and we’d
abandoned it in much the same way that a sailor would abandon a sinking ship. The
welds had given up. There are those that are blaming Morgan for tiddling on it,
but we only put it up last April. I would
have expected more than one year out of it.
We did “Feed The Fish”, wrote up some CPD, and
decided not to go out to Rolvenden. Last week “er indoors TM” put
some geocaches out there, and she’d had reports of one already being missing.
But someone went out today and found it. That saved us an outing.
“er indoors TM” boiled up a good
bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst watching Celebrity Bake Off, and we followed
this with Al Murray talking about the Raj… He’s not bald any more…
Like all supposed days off, today was full on. I’m going to
work for a rest tomorrow.
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