21 March 2026 (Saturday) - Dog Club, Cat Figurines, Infinity Table

I woke at three o’clock last night when Morgan was having a nightmare and was kicking me. I then dozed on and off, finally getting up shortly after six o’clock.

I stood on the scales. I did that last night just before going to bed. Despite having had a tiddle (and consequently shifting some weight that way) I’d put on three pounds overnight. How was that possible?

I made toast and watched more of the Netflix documentary on dinosaurs. It was interesting, but again a *lot* of what can only be speculation as passed off as fact.

 

I then had a little look at the internet. For once there wasn’t much kicking off. On one of the local groups people were talking about the tattoo shop up the road which was once an ironmongers. I made the observation “That ironmongers was once the office of UKIP (or whatever the party was called then)” partly because it was, and partly to see what squabbles would be made from an innocent and factually correct statement. No one rose to the bait.

Two of the people on my Facebook friends list had birthdays today. One was an old friend from my days in the Boys Brigade who I’ve seen once in the last forty years, and the other died five years ago.

A local (ish) pub - the Blacksmith’s Arms – is closing. Being near where I used to work, a group of us used to go there on a Friday evening after work. Looking back that was thirty years ago.

And I was presented with several posts exhorting the dangers of ChatGPT… apparently my recent use of AI to generate caricatures will not only make money for some non-specified mysterious cabal, but also allow the machines to take over the world.

 

I Munzed and Wordled and listened to Steve on the radio. The “Guess the Lyrics” competition had me stumped. “Back in 68 in a sweaty club before Jimmys machine and a rock steady rub”. No – It was “Geno” by Dexy’s Midnight Runners. Some twelve years ago I found a geocache which was hidden where the video to one of their other songs had been filmed.

 

We got the dogs (and ourselves) organised and set off to Repton and the busiest Dog Club of the year (so far). I *think* I counted nineteen dogs and then four more came into the field. But despite so many dogs we had a good time. There was no squabbling or fighting or humping.

 

As we drove down the motorway so Steve was doing the Mystery Year competition on the radio, When was construction completed in the Channel Tunnel? 1993.

We drove to Newington where there was a series of geocaches along the bottom of the Downs. They would give us a good little walk, and finding each one would qualify us for the latest series of geocaching Treasures. The track was surprisingly mud-free. We didn’t find one of the geocaches, but we had a good walk. I had no idea that track was there – we walked for a mile at the end of which we had a rather good view of the White Horse that is carved into the hills above Folkestone.

And then we walked back to the car. A two mile walk, and home by one o’clock…

 

We came home for cheese on toast. I’d taken some photos at Dog Club and on our walk so I showed them to the world, and then I had a look in the garden.

I strimmed the lawn edges and mowed the lawn.  I pulled weeds out of the shingle round the pond and bionically burned other weeds. I de-bunged the aerator pump in the pond, and pulled loads of stringy algae out of the small pond, then gave the small pond another dose of the algae treatment.

I had a look at the area under that back window where Bailey seems to spend a lot of time hunting. I couldn’t see any rats or mice, or any evidence of them. But I couldn’t move the boxes out of the way as they looked as though they are about to collapse. I shall have to have a measure-up and build a replacement. Bearing in mind I made the old boxes out of scrap wood over ten years ago, they’ve not done badly.

I gave myself a haircut then had a little sit-down… and woke up half an hour later when “er indoors ^TM” asked me to help fetch the shopping in.

 

We got the Infinity Table out, and I spent the evening having my arse handed to me on a plate as we played several different versions of “Ticket To Ride”. France, Switzerland, Germany, UK, Asia… I lost the lot.

20 March 2026 (Friday) - A Day Off (?)

I slept through till half past four last night which was something of a result. And once I’d tiddled I went back to kip and slept through till after eight o’clock which was even better.

I got up and made toast. Whenever I make toast when it isn’t silly-early the dogs listen for the sound of the toast popping up then come charging down needing to immediately go outside. It’s not so bad now that it is getting warmer outside; I can leave the back door open. But over the winter I have to fart around with them and I get cold toast. “er indoors ^TM” says that they don’t do it deliberately (they are only dogs!) but they really do wait for the toast to pop up every single time.

 

I had my usual look at the Internet. The local pages were all incensed at the county council where all of the opposition councillors walked out of some debate or other when they weren’t getting their own way. Looking at the details of the mater, they were probably right to do so… but this is how our (so-called) democracy works, isn’t it. If there is a majority which agrees, then the minority’s viewpoint doesn’t get a look in. This obviously raises the questions of who elected the majority, and was that electorate competent to do so… but no one is asking those questions.

And there was a post on the Dog Club’s Facebook page asking if we only meet on Saturdays. Maybe someone could tell me where I’m going wrong with that Facebook page. When you call it up there is a pinned post saying where we meet, when we meet and how much it costs. But (apart from me posting photos of the weekly meets) ninety-nine per cent of the posts on that page are from people (who have never been to Dog Club and will never go) asking where we meet, when we meet and how much it costs.

 

I took the dogs up to the woods. Quite often Morgan isn’t keen to go; he’s not a “morning dog” but he was up for it today. We started our walk and my heart sank when we met some of the normal people. Some old woman (probably about five years younger than me!) was having near-hysterics because her dog had found a dead squirrel and wouldn’t put it down. I suggested that she just let her dog carry the squirrel. I told her that Treacle often picks up dead squirrels and carries them for miles, and when we get back to the car she drops it. The old woman didn’t actually call me a liar, but it was quite plain that she didn’t believe that anyone would let their dog carry a dead squirrel about.

Am I wrong to let Treacle carry one when she finds one. She clearly enjoys it.

We met a young mother jogging along with her baby in a push chair. She said she’d not been to the woods before. I explained that if she stayed on the track she was on it goes in a big circle and after four miles she’d be back where she’d started from. She seemed keen; I explained the importance of staying on the track… I hope she didn’t wander off of it.

And at the furthest point of our walk from the car park we saw the first bluebells of the year.

 

After four and a bit miles we were back at the car. We came home where we didn’t really need a bath (result!) I made us a cuppa and I played with Microsoft Copilot. For nearly twenty years every blog entry I’ve made had had a picture with it. Photos I’ve taken are easy enough to get, but it isn’t always so simple if I want something vaguely related to whatever I’m ranting about. Like today. ChatGPT was good, but will only allow me five images a day. Microsoft Copilot seems to have less limitation, but… I suppose I just need to specify what I want of it. This morning as I walked round the woods I took some photos, and when I got home I asked Microsoft Copilot to work its magic. You can see the results here. It looks OK, but that post had one or two issues behind the scenes:

• I needed to start from scratch whenever I wanted it to do a second photo as if I didn’t, it would just do another version of the first.
• It would randomly add toys and butterflies to pictures.
• It would randomly add cartoon people to pictures.
• It would randomly add extra dogs to pictures.

But it got there in the end. Mostly. Like with ChatGPT’s images, if you look closely you’ll find inaccuracies and errors. But I’m quite pleased with what I got. Not bad for a first attempt.

 

I then remembered I hadn’t Munzed or Wordled. Munzing was easy enough; I opened a gold qrate and got another. And then I Wordled. Bearing in mind what I’d just been doing I started with “image” and worked through “paint” and “radio” to “oasis”.

And I remembered that I had trainees’ work to mark as well. That took a while. I put some shirts in to scrub and whilst that scrubbed I took Treacle and Bailey to the Doggy Dentist

 

Doggy dentist went well… or as well as it could. Treacle’s got a chipped back tooth, and Bailey’s teeth needed serious attention. It’s quite clear that she’s gone off of the chicken’s feet she gets offered (and turns down) every night.

I shall have to pin them down every evening and get busy with the toothbrush. I keep saying that.

 

We came home and I got on with the ironing. Dull, but it needed doing. As I ironed I watched drivel on the UK Gold channel… or U and Gold as it is now called. I wrote up some CPD, and programmed Hannah (my GPS unit) for tomorrow.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up fish and chips which we scoffed whilst watching the latest episode of “Danny Dyer’s Caravan Park”. I’m still in two minds as to whether I want to get a chalet in Leysdown. And then, starting as we mean to continue, we brushed the dogs’ teeth.

 

I’ve had four days at work this week and for all that it was perhaps a bit much (!) today was hardly restful.

And in closing today I’ll just whinge that my shoulder still hurts. It went crunch when I took my coat out of my locker at work yesterday, and it’s been really painful ever since.

19 March 2026 (Thursday) - Microsoft Copilot

I woke feeling full of energy and ready for the day… at twenty to two. I then dozed on and off for the rest of the night. Unlike last night the dogs were settled, but I wasn’t.

I got up at five o’clock and watched more of the Netflix dinosaur documentary. It is very entertaining but a lot of what it presents as fact can only be speculation at best… how would anyone know details of the courtship rituals of animals that went extinct two hundred million years ago? And on a purely personal note, I might try listening to it before bed rather than after it; Morgan Freeman’s narration is rather soporific, isn’t it?

 

I had a little look at the Internet as I do. There was all sorts of bickering about all sorts of subjects. One argument particularly caught my eye… a day or so I accepted an invitation to a pubs-related group. It would seem that the chap who invited me has invited loads of other people in the hope of getting elected onto the ruling committee of the Campaign for Real Ale. I was a CAMRA member many years ago. Back then the local branch was very clearly a little clique of mates with no interest of having anyone joining in with their little gang. I packed up CAMRA as at the time it was quite plain that they had no interest in the opinions of their membership. “Pubs ot the Year” would be voted for by a committee who would announce the decision after it was made… the committees would announce their own elections after it had happened. It would seem this sort of thing is still going on. I got involved years ago, but now… not my circus, not my monkeys.

 

As I drove to work I listened to the pundits on the radio who were talking about yesterday's Prime Minister's question time in the House of Commons. Quite a bit of footage from it was played on the radio; it sounded as though it had been an utter debacle. Some MP or other would ask the Prime Minister a question about something or other. Members of his own party would ask him about his recent triumphs, and the Prime Minister would thank that person for their question, and there would be mutual congratulations all round. And then members of opposition parties would try to embarrass the Prime Minister by asking about recent balls-ups, and rather than replying about the balls-up in question, the Prime Minister would then embark on either a personal attack on the questioner or a more general attack on the questioner's political party, and drag up all sorts of their historical balls-ups.

At no point was anything on any matter ever seen as a good or bad idea; everything discussed had become a party political matter. This is entirely what is wrong with politics, isn't it? One party will say "we like cheese and onion crisps", and no other political party will ever again eat a crisp of any flavour, let alone cheese and onion.

 

Work was work; again I was doing extra helping out with the new computer system. I had a productive morning, but reached a sensible stopping point so slipped out a tad earlier than I might have done.

I came home, bundled up the dogs and took them to Orlestone which was again heaving with butterfly hunters. I *think* I might have seen one or two of the large tortoiseshell butterflies. I say *think*; I’m not sure, but there were very large things fluttering about at the bottom of the woods. They were the wrong shape and size for birds, and were changing direction far too rapidly to be a bird. Had it been at dusk I would have said they were bats, but it was three o’clock in the afternoon.

 

We came home and did “FEED THE FISH”. I fiddled about on-line looking at the price of paying for CharGPT… Would I use it enough to warrant seven quid a month? Only getting five free piccies a day with ChatGPT is a tad restrictive… but then I realised that Microsoft Copilot does pictures and I pay for that already… Having spent a few weeks learning ChatGPT I’ve now got to learn something new, but I’ll (hopefully) be able to do more with it…

18 March 2026 (Wednesday) - This N That

I didn’t have the best of nights. The dogs were fidgety and restless and with an alarm set I spent much of the night looking at the clock as I so often do.

I made toast and had a look at the telly. I started watching a new thing on Netflix – a documentary about dinosaurs. It was rather good, but… many years ago when I kept snakes I read up a lot on reptiles and it would seem that much of what we know about dinosaurs is really best guesses based on fossiled bones. But it was a good TV show.

I then had my usual rummage round the Internet. As well as people proudly showing off their ignorance about meningitis on Facebook there were quite a few people talking about St Patrick’s Day yesterday. As happens every year no end of people who’ve never been any closer to the Emerald Isle than the M25 were claiming Irish heritage and professing a love of Guinness. Guinness boils my piss. It’s not a bad pint, but when you look at just how many dark beers are readily available in supermarkets, it’s probably at the bottom of the range for quality. As I’ve said before (endlessly!) Guinness is a triumph of marketing.

It would seem I missed a geo-meet-up in Frittenden last night. Whenever I stage a geocaching meet I make a point of contacting all the hunters of Tupperware within a twenty-mile radius to let them know and I usually get a decent turn out.  Many other people make the effort to put on a meet but don’t tell anyone… and no one knows there is a get-together happening. Ho hum…

 

As I drove to work I listened to the pundits on the radio spouting their morning nonsense. The Scottish Parliament has thrown out the assisted dying bill. Apparently the whole idea of letting terminally ill people choose to pull their own plug is fraught with problems in that people might feel pressured to pull their own plugs and it would be better to force people to carry on suffering instead.

Can't see it myself. 

And there was an interview with some businesswoman about how there's a new boss at the Disney corporation. When asked about how this new bloke would affect the company this woman (in between her hesitation) effectively spoke in a foreign language. She really did say "erm... meaningless catch-phrase... er... management buzz-word... erm... more meaningless catch-phrases... um..." and ended by saying that it was all sixty-forty.

Why do they have these people on the radio?

 

As I drove I popped in to the co-op to get a sandwich.  I'd not had much luck on Monday but I wondered if they had just been left with the dregs from the weekend and they might have been re-stocked by the middle of the week... I got there to find a woman in co-op uniform standing on a step fiddling about inside the fridge. They had some sandwiches, but none of the snacks that make up the meal deal. I asked the woman in the co-op uniform if they had any. She apologised and said that she didn't work there; she was only doing a stock-take(!)

I then had a stroke of genius - Waitrose would only be a short diversion as I drove past Repton... I got there to find the place didn't open for another hour.

I tried the works branch of M&S. A rather manky sandwich and a rather empty bag of crisps (and a bottle of water) were up for sale at over two quid more than Sainsburys were knocking out (rather better) meal deals. 

I got something from the hospital's league of friends shop. I shall go back to Sainsburys next time.

 

Being on flexible extra hours to help out today I got to escape earlier than I might usually have done. I came home, and seeing a rather lovely afternoon I took the dogs out. It was perhaps a tad late for four miles round Kings Wood so we had two miles round Orlestone instead.

We got to the car park to find only one space free. I’ve never seen the place so busy. As we walked into the woods so some chap came the other way with binoculars and a seriously impressive zoom lens on his camera. He announced that I must be one of the locals who goes to the woods all the time, and he apologized. Apparently there have been several sightings of the large tortoiseshell butterfly in Orlestone over the last week or so. These things grow to three inches across; supposedly extinct in the UK, it isn’t extinct any more, and people have travelled across the country to see them. I didn’t see any myself, but my new-found friend had seen some and was only too happy to share his photograph. And I was only too happy to take the credit.

In between exchanging pleasantries with several other butterfly-spotters we had an episode…

 

Some idiot woman came past on a pedal bike with two large dogs in tow. One of them chased Bailey who sprinted off into the woods screaming in terror (like she does). The idiot woman started laughing but before I could react, Morgan flew off in pursuit. About two seconds later so idiot woman’s dog came sprinting back with Morgan in hot pursuit and with a clump of idiot woman’s dog’s fur in his mouth. I didn’t say anything; I didn’t feel that I needed to, but in all honesty I don’t think that idiot woman had noticed anything..

I whistled to my dogs, and we walked off leaving her and her dogs behind.

 

I had hoped we wouldn’t have needed a bath when we got home, but (as she always does) Treacle had wallowed in a swamp in the way back to the car.

With bellies and paws washed we did “FEED THE FISH” and I made us both a cuppa with a lump of coffee and walnut cake. I then asked ChatGPT to make a picture of Mickey Mouse chairing a business meeting which I was planning on using for today’s blog photo, but after a few seconds it told me “We’re so sorry, but the image we created may violate our guardrails concerning similarity to third-party content”. I suppose it is right… I suppose Mickey Mouse is copyrighted by the Disney corporation. So I tried to get the picture above. I got it to make a picture on the fourth attempt – it kept giving me the reply “We’re so sorry, but the prompt may violate our content policies”. I’d given it a picture of Bailey and had asked for a picture of her chasing a butterfly whilst being chased by a big scary dog herself. Eventually I think I found that the problem was that ChatGPT doesn’t like the word “scary”.

In the week or so that I’ve been playing with ChatGPT I must admit I’m rather impressed with the thing.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up sausages and chips which we scoffed whilst watching The Great Pottery Throw Down… I’ve not messed about with clay since primary school. I wouldn’t mind having another go…

17 March 2026 (Tuesday) - Three Years Later...

Being wide awake far too early I watched the last episode of “Pride and Prejudice” and found myself thinking. In much of the show getting a letter was a big thing. Sending a letter was the only way of communicating over any distance. You would take an age composing a letter, the thing would then be sent and take a couple of days to get where it was intended to go, and you wouldn’t expect a reply for a week at best. It is so easy to take today’s instant communication for granted.

 

And talking of instant communication I sparked up the lap-top. Back in the day I used to have a newspaper instead which would give me a snapshot of the state of the world as it had been late the day before. These days the Internet allows instant updates and the ability to comment and reply… and we just use this to argue and squabble,

This morning’s squabbles were rather embarrassing. There’s been an outbreak of meningitis locally, and so many people were posting about it on local Facebook groups seemingly only to demonstrate their ignorance. Just because one of the victims was of school age doesn’t mean that schools give you meningitis. Just because people with meningitis are in hospital doesn’t mean that you can contract meningitis by being in the hospital’s general vicinity.

Vaccinations do *not* cause autism…

It bothers me that not only are so many people so thick, they also clearly take great pride in showing it.

 

As I drove to work so the pundits on the radio were again talking about the war in the Middle East. They were interviewing the head honcho of Hays Travel. Can you believe that holiday bookings for destinations in the Middle East are seriously down? The obvious question would be who would be so dumb as to book a holiday in a war zone, but it would seem that quite a few people have done so, and quite a few aren’t cancelling their arrangements.

And Donald Trump has got the arse. Having slapped financial tariffs on all of his allies and then having been incredibly rude about them in public, he’s now acting surprised when no one wants to help to put him out of the hole he’s dug for himself.

 

I popped in to Sainsburys for a sandwich then went on to work for another day fighting with the new computer. I say “fighting”; I made rather good progress with it. Today I was testing out the instruction manual to see if there’s any areas where the instructions might be bettered. I found a couple.

And then I came home.

 

I did have a plan to take the dogs out, but “er indoors ^TM” had taken them round the block earlier. And I’d had to park a ridiculously long way away from the house. Instead we did “FEED THE FISH”.

I had a little doze, and then I had a message. Apparently my mum and dad’s old house is up for sale. Looking at the photos, the chap we sold it to has done a load of work on it including replacing all the windows and putting in patio doors, a new kitchen and bathroom, and decorating throughout… with that in mind , looking at the asking price and comparing that to what we sold it for, the chap who bought if off us hasn’t made quite the profit you might think he might have made. 

16 March 2026 (Monday) - New Computer, Dead Squirrel

I was up far too early this morning. I stood on the scales… my weight is slowly creeping up again. Back to calorie counting I suppose.

I made toast and coffee and watched another episode of “Pride and Prejudice” in which Miss Elizabeth Bennett commented “The more I see of the world the more I am dissatisfied with it”. She’s probably got a point.

I then had a quick look at the Internet. It was still there. There were one or two things posted from friends and one or two snippets from groups and pages I follow, but more and more I find my Facebook feed to be filled with adverts about stuff in which I have absolutely no interest whatsoever.

I had a quick Munz, then got ready for work.

 

I drove round to the co-op to get a sandwich. Their meal deal is twenty pence cheaper than Sainsbury's, but the selection is rather poorer. I shall go to Sainsbury's next time.

As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the radio were interviewing a retired general about he situation in the Middle East. Apparently President Trump is demanding that his NATO allies should get involved in the war he's started, and is threatening dire consequences for anyone who doesn't help him out. The general being interviewed seemed to be of the opinion that he would be surprised if anyone would help Trump out. NATO is supposed to be all about mutual defence; not jumping in to help so-called allies who've unilaterally picked a fight of their own making and found that they've bitten off more than they can chew.

And there was talk about oil theft... with the price of oil going through the roof it would seem that anyone who heats their house using oil is at risk of having organised gangs turning up and nicking the stuff.

 

I got to work. I wasn't supposed to be in today, but I'd offered to do extra hours this morning to help out testing the new computer system that we are getting in a few months' time. It didn't help that the chap who was going to show me what was what with the new system was off sick, so. I had a Teams session with one of the IT people from Dartford instead. I’ve got to grips with how the system works. Sort of. I’m having another go tomorrow.

 

I came home and took the dogs to the woods. We got to the car park at Kings Wood just before two o’clock to find there wasn’t any other cars in the car park.

We walked for just over four miles according to my phone. According to my watch it was just under five miles. Treacle found a dead squirrel in the first hundred yards and carried it the whole way. Bailey found some fox poo, and I went base over apex in the mud. No harm done, but I need to be a tad more careful. It won’t be that long before I will be too old to have falls.

Today’s route took us past a geocache of mine that two people had reported that they couldn’t find. I found it - the cache was clearly there…

 

We came home. Mud was washed from bellies, fox poo was washed from backs. We fed the fish, and I then made a cuppa for “er indoors ^TM” and me, and did us a slice of coffee and walnut cake each too. I put a load of washing in to scrub and had a little doze, then “er indoors ^TM” went bowling and I watched more “Pride and Prejudice” in which Mr Wickham meddled with tradesmen’s daughters.

 

I’m quite worn out…

15 March 2026 (Sunday) - Geo-Meet, Maidstone, Telly

I slept well, but woke just before seven o’clock with something of a guts ache. I lay there wondering if it was only a fart… I decided to take no chances and got up.

I made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do. It was much the same as it ever is.

 

Taking care not to disturb anyone I got dressed and once I’d scraped the ice off the car I drove up to Maidstone. There was a breakfast geo-meet today, and there are some geo-puzzles in the area which involve finding where a particular photos was taken. I thought I might have a little walk solving those puzzles before the meet.

As I drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing some Christians who live in a war zone somewhere or other. Rather than seeing the senseless violence and massacre as being tragic, these crackpots somehow thought it all evidence of their god’s love. How on Earth did that work?

I almost fell at the first hurdle when I got to Maidstone. The car park I found wasn’t a RingGo one. It was Apcoa which meant downloading and setting up their app. Back in the day you could just put some money into the machine. Nowadays everything has its own individual app, and you have to waste fifteen minutes setting up something you will never use again. I’ve seen RingGo everywhere; I’ve never seen Apcoa anywhere.

 

With car eventually parked I went for a little wander. I found three of the locations I was seeking and got the information I needed. Three eluded me though. I still need to find a ruined church, “the year of the bird” (?)  and a church with a square belfry with an odd turret on one side.

Feeling a bit peckish I thought I might go to where we were having the geo-meet and have brekkie before everyone else arrived. We were meeting in the local Wetherspoons…

Wetherspoons aren’t bad in that they are cheap and cheerful and you know what you are getting… Well… let me rephrase that.

Wetherspoons are bad.

OK, they are cheap (if far from cheerful), and you know what you are getting… You are getting ignored by the surly and disinterested schoolchildren who work there, and eventually you will get rather substandard food not so much served up by them as slapped down in front of you by them. It’s a sad look-out when they can’t fry an egg, isn’t it.

 

With a very poor massively over-priced brekkie scoffed everyone else arrived, and we had a rather good half an hour chatting. It seemed I missed a rather good walk round London on Friday…but with my mates having walked forty-five thousand steps I’m rather glad I hadn’t joined them.

It would have been good to have stayed longer, but I had to get home.

 

As I drove home,  heart surgeon Stephen Westaby was on Desert Island Discs. He was surprisingly interesting. Apparently he was a very quiet and shy chap until he sustained a serious head injury after which he was very loud and outgoing. Makes you think, doesn’t it?

He made a very interesting point about the surgical league tables that the government is so keen on. He doesn’t do that well on those league tables… because he’s doing open heart surgery on patients who are critically ill. Comparing him with someone who specialises in ingrowing toenails is hardly fair, is it?

 

I got home and “er indoors ^TM” went out to a Mother’s Day bash with “My Boy ^TM” and his tribe. I took the dogs out. Bearing in mind how many normal people had been swarming round Scadbury Park yesterday I decided against Kings Wood today. Instead we walked round the block. One of my Wherigos had a “did not find” reported last week. We walked round to it and saw it was where it was supposed to be.

 

We came home, and once I’d been round the garden with a bucket gathering turds I got the lawn mower out. After two minutes I turned the lawn mower off and went and got the turd bucket again. I started mowing; I went and got the turd bucket again. You’d be amazed at how much dung three small dogs can generate.

 

I made myself a cuppa, then had a look at the clues I’d gathered whilst walking round Maidstone earlier. I came up with some locations which look sensible on Google street view… 

I Munzed, then Wordled. “Music” gave me nothing, but amazingly “trade” gave me four correct letters in the correct places, and so with only one possibility I got it on the third attempt with “grade”.

I then settled underneath a pile of dogs and watched a couple of episodes of “Pride and Prejudice” until five past three. That was when ChatGPT said that I could again ask it to make some pictures. I got it to make more dog pictures. I’ve made quite a few of these… I wonder when the novelty will wear off.

 

“er indoors ^TM” came home with left-over dinner meat for the dogs and a chocolate éclair for me. Result all round. She sorted a pizza for tea and we watched more of the TV show about Jon Richardson helping to restore a derelict pub in Yorkshire.

For all that there’s a massive fundraising campaign to do the place up, and loads of people volunteering to help, I can’t help wonder why the place closed. The answer has to be something I’m forever ranting about…

Out of interest I’ve done some sums…

The village where Jon Richardson’s pub is in has (about) one hundred and sixty-six residents.

Last year (2025) the average UK pub (that didn’t go bust) had a turnover of ten thousand pounds per week.

So either everyone in the village needs to spend sixty quid a week in the pub or they need to get loads of tourists in. But look on a map – the place is miles from anywhere.

I wish them well…

14 March 2026 (Saturday) - Scadbury Park

I woke shortly after at four o’clock in a cold sweat following a nightmare in which I’d been seconded to take over the medical laboratory at my old primary school which wasn’t making a profit. I wasn’t at all sure that anyone could make a profit by performing blood tests (for free) on small children, but what do I know?

 

I got up at seven o’clock, made toast and had a look at the Internet. It was still there, and was much the same as ever. This morning the political squabbles were rather bitter as people who are staunch Reform and Conservative supporters were now dead against the war in the Middle East which only a few days ago they’d been supporting. The reason for their change of heart? – the leaders of their chosen political partes had changed their minds. Politics winds me up. So many people choose a political party and then go along with what that party says rather than forming an opinion of their own.

I saw my brother was off to see the football. Having driven to Brighton to get on the coach at some silly hour he was on his way to Sunderland.

I Munzed, got Wordle (ankle) on the fifth attempt, and strained my brain as Steve did the “Guess the Lyrics” competition on the radio. “Baby baby, when I lay with you there’s no place I’d rather be”? No? It was “I Feel For You” by Chaka Khan. If it’s any consolation I had no idea either.

 

We drove round to Repton and Dog Club where I wasn’t happy to see that the people at the later sessions had forgotten to shift last week’s dog poo bag (again). But other than that we had a (mostly) good session. It was a shame that Bailey escaped, but apart from that, a couple of minor quarrels and some humping a good time was had by all.

It probably helped by having all the humans standing in the sun where it was warmer. For some reason we always seem to stand in the shadows.

 

From Dog Club we drove off for a little walk. AS we drove Steve was doing the Mystery Year competition on the radio. When did the SAS storm the QE2? 1972.

We listened to Steve as far as Leeds castle which was where the radio signal gave out. From there we listened to my MP3 player until we got to Sidcup and Scadbury park. There were geocaching souvenirs for finding fourteen puzzle geocaches today, and with eighteen in the park, Scadbury seemed to be the place to go to.

We’ve been there before (not that I can remember the place) and I would certainly go back… but perhaps not at the weekend. It was heaving with normal people. But for the most part they did their thing and we did ours. It was only a shame that we dropped Pogo’s lead and had to back-track a few hundred yards.

After a couple of hours we were back at the car. We’d had a good walk, and as a geocaching walk I can’t recommend it highly enough. About as many caches as it would be possible to get, mostly straightforward finds…

I took quite a few photos whilst we were out.

 

We took a little diversion on the way home to drop Pogo home after his little holiday. We met up with his mummy at the playpark where she was having some time with little Jake. Little Jake isn’t so little anymore; he’s taller than his grandmother. We’d not seen him for far too long, and after a little ice-breaker with the dogs today we will definitely meet up again. Soon.

We came home via Repton where I was pleased to see that the dog poo bag had gone. I don’t know who took it, and (in all honesty) I don’t much care. It has been sorted and so that is one less thing for me to do.

 

Once home we had a cuppa. I did the geo-admin to get the e-souvenirs, had the obligatory go on ChatGPT then went back out to my car. As we’d driven my car had whinged that the tyre pressures were low so I pumped them up. I’ve not done that for four months. Is that bad? I never used to pump up the tyres on previous cars. Partly because they never whinged at me about low tyre pressure, partly because no one else checks tyre pressures, but mostly because the nice man in the garage had told me that tyre pressures are a servicing thing. Was he wrong?

 

We had a little doze, then got the Infinity table out and played “Ticket to Ride” pretty much all the way around the world… we had a little drinkie or two as we played. It was all rather vague by the time the amaretto came out. I thought I had three bottles of the stuff,,, I could only find one,

13 March 2026 (Friday) - A Day's Leave

I slept far better than I thought I might; Pogo was quiet last night and didn’t starfish across the bed. He’s quite a lump and can take up space.

 

I smiled as I scoffed toast. The geo-feds have looked at my plans for the midsummer’s eve event and given it the thumbs-up. Because of the rules they can’t make the thing live for a week or so; apparently events can only be published three months or less in advance. Oh well… at least all is in order.

There was someone on one of the local Facebook groups asking for recommendations for a decent vet. This question comes up all the time, and every vet within twenty miles get praise and criticism. When looking for a vet people seem to forget two important points. Firstly vets are regularly inspected by the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons and the government and any which aren’t any good are closed down. And secondly vets aren’t the NHS which is free. They are businesses which aren’t. Sadly (like going to the pub) having a pet is fast becoming the province of those who can afford it.

Meanwhile a lost episode of Doctor Who has been found.

 

I Munzed – our Munzee Clan has reached the second of our monthly goals. I Wordled from “found” through “knave” and “renal” to “eaten” then had a minor sulk. I’d had the offer to go on a geocaching outing to London today. Originally I couldn’t get the day off but I asked on Tuesday and got the day off… but had forgotten about the geo-outing. By the time I remembered everyone else would have been on the train.

Ho hum…

 

I took the dogs out. As we drove to the woods Jessie Buckley was on Desert Island Discs. She sounded to be an interesting person… even though I’d never heard of her before.

We got to the woods and walked four miles. We saw some horses, but the dogs came back when called, and other than that the walk was completely uneventful. But it was a *lot* muddier than it had been yesterday; the overnight rain had seen to that.

We came home via the petrol station… bearing in mind all the doom and gloom on the news about petrol prices the stuff has only gone up by three pence per litre in the last week. Having said that, it will probably go through the roof now.

 

We came home for baths. Pogo had been good as gold up the woods, and whilst he was no trouble at bath time, the bath was definitely crowded with four dogs in it.

I made us both a cuppa and then spent a little while playing with ChatGPT again. It made a good cartoon of the dogs in the wood and of them playing in mud, but when it came to making pictures of them in the bath it duplicated the Morgan dog. I asked it to remove one of them and it removed both. It got it right on the third attempt, but with only getting five free pictures a day there’s very little scope for cock-up.

 

I spent a few minutes solving geo-puzzles, then had a little doze on the sofa and woke with a neck ache. I spent the afternoon (as I so often do) watching episodes of “Four In A Bed” in which (as so often happens) the most confident contestants ran an utter shambles of a place and came last.

I then announced that it was time to “FEED THE FISH”. The dogs always like that. Sadly when I came to top up the fish food I managed to spill bird seed everywhere, but it didn’t take that long to clear up.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up fish and chips which we scoffed whilst watching the latest episode of Danny Dyer’s Caravan Park. This week he organised the caravan park’s entertainment by wheeling on some showbiz pals of his. Any doubts I might have had about not wanting a caravan on Sheppey were firmly killed by watching his eighties night…

I’ve always fancied the idea of a caravan or a camper van… but it’s not practical and if the TV show is anything to go by I’m fast changing my mind.

12 March 2026 (Thursday) - Home Alone

With no alarm set I had a decent night. I slept through till nearly seven o’clock. I got up, made toast and had a look at the Internet. Last night I’d been looking at bottles of stout on Amazon; this morning my Facebook feed was filled with adverts for beer and posts from pub-related Facebook pages. It would seem that a pint of stout is over ten quid in some of the pubs in London. More and more, a pub is a luxury beyond the pockets of most people.

 

I took the dogs out. As we drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing some politician or other. The person and the topic of the interview were irrelevant as it just went the same way of every political interview. Something scandalous had happened, and some government minister agreed to go on national radio to be interviewed about the matter only to evade every question asked of them. Why go on the radio at all if all you are going to do is effectively make yourself and your chosen party look bad?

 

We got to the woods an hour earlier than usual and the car park was a lot busier than it is at nine o’clock. We set off on our walk and soon met two normal people having an argument. Their dogs were playing, but clearly these people didn’t know what dog play looked like, and both were shouting at the other to call their dog away. Morgan and Bailey joining in probably didn’t help matters at all, but they came away when I called them. We walked off leaving the normal people arguing and the dogs playing.

Apart from that, the walk was rather uneventful. We went round four and a bit miles and came back to the car when I noticed the fox poo smeared all up Bailey’s back. Up to that point I’d hoped we might not have needed a bath when we got home.

 

We came home and had that bath. I put a load of washing in to scrub, made myself a cuppa and Munzed. Then I had a little look at Wordle. Bearing in mind the state Bailey had been in earlier I started with “turds” which gave me an “s” in the wrong place. Following on from that I tried “shite” which was a mistake as I already knew the “t” wasn’t there, but it told me where the “s” went. “Spell” got me almost there, and “smell” did the trick.

We then had a minor commotion as “My Boy ^TM” came to visit. He returned the pressure-washer he’d borrowed at the weekend and helped me take the shingle-patterned liner off of the pond’s bog filter. The stuff never looked right. I really want to get some sort of waterproof lino-type stuff with a dark rock pattern, but I just can’t find any.

 

I played with ChatGPT some more, and wrote up some CPD until the washing machine finished. I ironed shirts, then voomed round with the Hoover, dinged out the recycling, sorted out the event page for my planned midsummer’s eve picnic and generally tidied up. As I fiddled around I watched “Vladimir” on Netflix. It was a rather good show about a couple of aging university professors who had an “open marriage” in which they both carried on porking whoever they fancied. I found myself reminded of a chap with whom I used to work who could never keep it inside his trousers.

 

With the dogs snoring I loudly announced that I was going to “FEED THE FISH”. That caused some minor mayhem.

“er indoors ^TM” came home from a day at the office. Pogo came with her – he’s having a little holiday with us. We had a pasta bake for tea whilst watching the last episode of the current season of “Starfleet Academy”. There’s going to be another season next year; it’s got another chance…

As long as there’s been spin-offs of Star Trek (since the animated series in 1973) I’ve been whinging about those who don’t like the spin-offs… and here I am now one of those I used to whinge about.

11 March 2026 (Wednesday) - Another Early Shift

Again with an alarm set I had a rather bad night and was again up far too early. I made toast and started something new on Netflix. I’ve only seen the first episode, but “Vladimir” seems to be entertaining enough. Unlike many other shows the episodes are only half an hour long which stops my attention wandering.

I then had a little look at the Internet. There was consternation on one of the geocaching pages as the people at geo-HQ have finally realised that there is software you can use to make your phone think you are half-way across the world and so allows you to cheat at a location-based game. And having realised this they are making moves to stop people cheating. Moves than an IT-proficient company would have made year ago. It never fails to amaze me just how IT-illiterate geocaching is when you bear in mind just how high-tech the hobby would seem to be.

 

As I'd watched telly I'd heard the rain on the window. The rain had pretty much stopped by the time I left home. I'd made a point of remembering where I'd parked last night and so knew where my car was. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the ongoing war in the Middle East. HMS Dragon has finally been dispatched but won't get there for a week. Apparently its role is to defend an RAF base which has already been bombed.

There was also talk about how the Iranians have closed the Strait of Hormuz even though Donald Trump says they can't, and if they try to he will kick ass.

Meanwhile the annual world watercress eating competition has been won for the seventeenth time by someone who can't stand the stuff.

 

I stopped off at Sainsburys to get a sandwich. In a novel break with tradition I got beef and horseradish rather than coronation chicken because the sign on the shelf said it was forty pence cheaper. It was a shame that the sign hadn't told the till. I thought about kicking off, but the staff there are troublesome at the best of times so I thought it best not to cause a fuss. On the plus side I got some tennis balls for Dog Club.

 

I went in to work and did my bit. During tea break I had a message from home; apparently Morgan had been caught chewing on a contact lens. We're not sure where he got it from; I find it best not to ask in those situations.

 

Another early start made for another early finish, and this evening I got home far faster than I did yesterday.

Once home I had a little kip until “er indoors ^TM” boiled up pie and chips which we scoffed whilst watching more “Motherland”. I’d forgotten that Debbie The Chosen One had played the “council mother”.

 

I’ve been on the go for eighteen hours… and I’ve done so little of note today.

10 March 2026 (Tuesday) - Early Shift

With an alarm set I didn’t sleep well. I woke before two o’clock and then dozed for fifteen minutes at a time at most. I gave up and got up at five o’clock and watched the last episode of “Everyone Else Burns” in which our heroes finally saw through the utter bollox that was the cult which had held them captive for years…

I suppose that show worked really well for me because I was once a religious crackpot; I wonder how everyone else related to it? I wonder what I might watch next?

I sparked up my lap-top and had a little look at the Internet. Not much had happened overnight so I got ready for work.

 

When we came home from the woods yesterday I'd managed to park outside the house, so I didn't have to walk the streets trying to find where I'd left the car this morning.

As I drove to work the pundits on the radio were talking about the ongoing war in the Middle East. Apparently Donald Trump made some speech yesterday which has calmed the markets and oil prices have dropped quite a bit from the prices they were at yesterday. Personally I find nothing that bloke says as being calming, but what do I know? The pundits on the radio were interviewing various windbags all of whom were predicting rising inflation and fuel prices... which is odd as yesterday's post brought a letter from the energy company saying my combined leccie and gas bill was going down by a tenner a month. And that was following me having had the heating on a lot more over the last few months because it was winter.

More and more I find myself utterly bemused by the world I'm in.

 

I stopped off in Sainsburys to get a sandwich. I eventually got one; some idiot was standing right in front of the fridge in everyone's way, and seemed to have gone into some sort of trance. He seemed to be genuinely surprised when he came to and saw half a dozen people waiting for him to get out of the way.

Again the tills were all closed. The miserable harridan who often glares at the people using the self-service tills wasn't there today, but there were a few members of staff (who could have been on the tills) laughing and joking with each other. Again I emptied a pocket full of loose change into the self-service machine, but it's not the same without the sour faced old bat so obviously taking offence at my doing so. It was only as I walked out that I remembered that I should have got some tennis balls for Dog Club.

I went into work where I had a rather busy day. Things started badly with a Red Alert (that's two this week and it is only Tuesday!), and the day just went on from there.

 

But an early start made for an early finish. “er indoors ^TM” boiled up a rather good chicken curry which we washed down with a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. A red bottle. I’ve had the white stuff before and not been impressed, but the red stuff was rather good. AS we scoffed and swilled we watched some episodes of “Motherland” which were rather good. We’re now watching episodes of “Clarkson’s Farm” which aren’t.

9 March 2026 (Monday) - Rostered Day Off

All the lights were on next door when I went to the loo just before five o’clock. I went back to bed, and got up at eight.

I made toast and sent out birthday wishes to the four Facebook friends having birthdays, then had a little look-see to find out if I’d missed much overnight. I hadn’t really. Someone who’d never once taken the trouble to hide a geocache of their own was on one of the Facebook geocaching pages moaning about how people only ever put out small hides these days. I wrote a reply… and deleted it. I couldn’t be bothered to argue. But this is the way of the world isn’t it. No matter what the hobby (geocaching, astronomy, keeping snakes, kite-flying, sci-fi fandom, scouting, dogs…) no one ever says “why don’t we…”. It is always “why don’t you…”

 

I took the dogs out. We walked down the road to the car… then I remembered that I’d parked it up the road.

We drove up to the woods where it was very foggy. As we walked Morgan marched off in front as he does. He stopped at a corner and started growling. I looked round the corner and saw some woman pinning a red setter to the ground. This woman was constantly asking “are they all right” whilst glancing at Morgan and Bailey. I assured her that they were, and she got up. Her dog gave me a look of total embarrassment and walked  past. What was that all about?

Our walk today was one that was spelled out by our recent emails. We’d had reports that four of the geocaches I’d hidden in the woods were missing, so I planned a walk which would visit each of them. One was missing; three were where they were supposed to be.

As we walked we saw some horses about a hundred yards in front of us. I was rather pleased that the dogs saw them and ignored them.

I lost the dogs in the fog a few times, but each time they came back when I whistled.

And we found a rather nice woolly hat. I put it on a waymarker post so hopefully the owner will see it. But if it is still there on our next walk, I’m having it.

After either six miles (according to my phone) or six and three quarter miles (according to my watch) we got back to the car.

 

We came home for a cuppa, and with that guzzled I voomed round the garden with the lawnmower. You forget just how fast a lawn can grow.

I wanted to crack in in the garden, but the bugs are still (mostly) hibernating and I didn’t want to disturb them. And I’d already done six miles round the woods and mowed the lawn. It’s rather easy to overdo it and end up aching for a week, so I settled in front of the telly and watched episode of “Four In A Bed” in which everyone started off being all buddy-buddy but fell out quite spectacularly at the end.

 

I spent a little while playing with ChatGPT… I’m only allowed a few photos each day (because I’m mean and have the free version). I’ve created a little album of the better photos I’ve made over the last few days and weeks. I’m quite pleased with what it can do.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up pizza and chips then went off bowling. I sparked up Netflix and started watching a film. “Stripes” was something of a disappointment… I’m sure I can remember it being much better. I turned it off half-way through. It hasn’t stood the test of time. 

8 March 2026 (Sunday) - Early Shift

I slept reasonably well up till half past four. After laying awake for a bit I got up and noticed that the lights were on in not-so-nice-next-door. I often wonder if she runs on Japanese time; over the winter I’ve often noticed downstairs in darkness and the bedroom light on in the early evening, and there’s always lights on at five o’clock in the morning.

I made toast and scoffed it whilst watching an episode of “Everyone Else Burns”, then had a little look at the Internet. Apart from having reached our first Munzee goal this month, not much had changed since last night. I got dressed and set off to work.

 

It was very foggy this morning. I felt it was far too foggy to drive through Bethersden like a lunatic with no regard for speed limits, safety, other road users or pedestrians, but one idiot from a local paving company obviously disagreed with me. As I have said before, driving like an idiot is best done in unmarked cars.

As I drove I listened to the pundits on the radio who were talking about pedestrianism which was very popular in the nineteenth century when those with too much money would pit their lackeys against those of their mates in long distance walking races. Some poor footmen would be expected to walk from London to York (and back) as quickly as they possibly could, with silly amounts of money being wagered on them. Apparently it became quite popular as a spectator sport with thousands of people turning out to watch. I expect it was all very entertaining all the time it is someone else doing the walking. It was claimed that the four hundred miles from London to York and back  was usually covered in about six days... four miles round the woods in an hour or so is quite enough for me.

This was followed by an interview with some chap who claimed to regularly run over a hundred miles in twenty-four hours. I thought that was a tad excessive, but that is apparently only half the world record distance in that time period.

After this was the farming program which featured a farm in the West Country which was run by a cheesemonger who had started up a charcuterie. No? - I had no idea what a charcuterie was either.  Apparently it's a posh butcher's shop.

From the way that they were speaking on the radio I got the impression that they felt everyone would know what a charcuterie was. Well, I didn't and I've learned something. And as I always say, a day when you learn nothing is a day wasted 

 

I took a slightly different journey to work this morning. I drove through Pembury in the hope of finding a shop that might be open from where I might get lunch. When I'm working at Maidstone at the weekends I always go to the works canteen, but when at Pembury... let's just say the canteen is not as good.

I found a corner shop that was open,  got a sandwich and drove on to the early shift and did my bit. It was a rather busy bit as well, involving a Red Alert. And from personal experience I can confidently assure my loyal readers that Red Alerts are nowhere near as much fun as Captain Kirk would have you believe.

 

During a lull in proceedings I Wordled. I'm testing the limits of Wordle at the moment... it wouldn't accept "farty", but it was quite happy with "farts"; presumably because "farts" didn't contain a single letter of today's word whereas "farty" did. And when the late shift rolled in I slipped off for lunch and scoffed my sandwich which wasn't bad... though I was surprised that it had a "best before" date of the twenty-fourth.  How can a sandwich be good for two weeks?

 

I came home to find Treacle was back to her old self. She’d had some raw turnip a day or so ago and during the day she’d sicked up several very hard lumps of undigested raw turnip. She’ll have it boiled from here on it.

With her on the mend and the fish ponds up and running again I commented that I was going to “FEED THE FISH!!” and there was quite a stampede to the pond. The dogs go mad for the rice flakes that the fish get.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up lamb chops which we scoffed whilst watching the final of “The Floor” then more episodes of “Motherland”. I’m thinking about an early night – I’m worn out.