I had a bad night. My arm and shoulder were
particularly painful. And when I went to the loo in the small hours I couldn’t
find Bailey. She’s so small she tucks into the smallest of places.
I finally nodded off and was sparko when “er
indoors TM” alarm went off at half
past seven. I swore, and got up.
I put a load of washing in to scrub, made toast and
fiddled about with my lap-top. I backed up a couple of weeks of photos (that
I will never look at again). Back in the day photos were a big thing. We
had to fart around buying film, and with only twenty-four shots on a reel of
film we would be incredibly judicious about that which we would photograph. And
then we had to take the film to the chemist and wait a few days to get the
photos back.
Nowadays we have instant access to photos. Someone in
America can see the picture of my dogs seconds after I took it. Sometimes we
don’t realise just how amazing the technology is.
And sometimes the technology can be wanting. The
blatant display of racial hatred that I reported to the Facebook feds the other
day apparently didn’t breach their community standards. One lives and learns.
I had an email about a new virtual geocache – the one
that “er
indoors TM” set up at Bonnington on
Thursday evening. I was rather cagey on here about what we’d been up to as some
people have (in the past) tracked my movements following this diary just
to get to be first on anything geocachical we might be creating.
The thing had gone live just after half past six this
morning, and the first one to find it had been out at Bonnington at just about
the time I was getting out of bed.
But for the most part this morning my Internet was
crawling with adverts for goldfish bowls… ones that looked really pretty with a
traditional Chinese diorama but on closer inspection were probably about a
quarter of the size you would have thought they were.
I Munzed, Wordled from “place” to “olden”
in three goes, and harvested an epic crop of dog turds from the garden. I’ve
said it before, but you wouldn’t believe how much dung three small dogs can
generate.
I hung out the washing, checked that I’d programmed “Hannah”
properly (last time I didn’t – woops!), Meowdolku-ed, and we set off on
today’s mission.
We drove down to Nonington where we waked for three miles picking up half a
dozen geocaches as we went. It was a shame that Bailey went rogue towards the
end of our walk, but that’s what she does. And (in all honesty) wouldn’t
we all given half a chance.
As we walked we found half a dozen geocaches. It was a
rather good walk.
From there we drove out to Sollys who operate a bar
and an ice-cream parlour. We passed on the ice-cream but had an elegant
sufficiency of the beer in the company of some very good friends. There’s no
denying that the afternoon got more and more vague as it wore on; it was as well
that I took a few photos.
We came home. I slept most of the way. And most of the
evening too…
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