I had a decent night’s sleep really despite a
nightmare in which my (late) father was tying kites to the sails of
windmills because he could.
I made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do.
As again it was the same as ever. There was a lot of talk on fishing-related
pages about how cruel keep nets can be. The idea of a keep net is that it is a
huge cylindrical net in which you retain everything you catch so that at the
end of the day you can see all your fish in one go. This is supposedly a rather
nasty thing to do… whereas sticking a hook through a fish’s mouth and pulling
it out of the water isn’t? It’s some time since I’ve been fishing… I’ve rather
gone off the idea of it.
I had another look at the internet archives and
downloaded two Jeeves and Wooster audiobooks. In the past I’ve always been
rather scathing of audiobooks, but they do fill the hour-long journey to and
from work.
I Munzed, Wordled from “night” to “capon”
in five goes, then had a text message. I had a code to use for NPERS PRD
authentication. I wonder what that was all about. As I fiddled on my phone Bailey
refused to eat her brekkie. For a dog that regularly scoffs turds, she can be
rather picky about what she will and won’t eat.
I took the dogs out for a walk. As we drove the
pundits on the radio were talking about the yesterday’s death of Dolly Parton.
The nation seems to have taken her passing to heart.
As we drove we found the road was closed. We took a
diversion through Shadoxhurst. One of the lanes was something of an eye-opener;
the place must act as the local tip’s stunt double. There was rubbish strewn
along the roadside for at least half a mile. Including several discarded
kitchen appliances.
Why can’t people ding their tat properly?
We got to Orlestone where we walked a slightly
different route to usual. Bailey went off on her own little missions a couple
of times, and Treacle straggled a bit, but generally a good time would seem to
have been had by all. Mind you we had a minor incident half-way round. Something
stank to high heaven. A dead deer? I chivvied the dogs on before they found it
and rolled in it.
We came home where I had another odd message. Was I
available to be interviewed on the radio this Sunday? Someone wanted to talk
about geocaching. I’m not free, so they asked me to prime a friend that they
told me they were going to ask.
I left for work a tad earlier than I might. A week or
so a new geocache went live in the Marden area which involved solving a puzzle.
That gave you a location to visit, but the instructions were rather cryptic
about what you did next. So I drove out to Marden where I found out what
you did next... I won't say what I did, but if rummaging under rocks looking
for film pots floats your boat, then if you drive out to Marden you won't be
disappointed (and there's a film pot involved).
I drove on to Pembury where I stopped off at Tesco to
get a sandwich. I went to Tesco as I had a couple of money off vouchers totalling
a bargain reduction of five quid off of my shopping. It paid for dinner, which
was a result.
I went in to work and did my bit. It could have been a
whole lot worse; many shifts are.
I 'd driven in to work listening to Adrian Mole on my
MP3 player, and went home doing the same. For all that I've got hundreds of
songs on my MP3 stick, over the years I've heard them all so many times. The
antics of Adrian Mole made a nice change. Even if (as I've said before)
Sue Townsend (the writer) was particularly nasty to him. Having finally
got a break, did she *really* have to saddle him with a psycho who
burned his house down?
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