With no alarm set I had a far better night. I went to
the loo in the small hours and listened to the noise of the rain thundering on
the roof, then went back to bed. I stayed there until eight o’clock when it has
stopped raining. Result.
I got up and did my usual root around the Internet.
This morning’s petty bickering was on one of the Hastings-related Facebook
pages where people were bemoaning the loss of the old cricket ground (even
though it has been a shopping centre for thirty years). Those who were old
enough to remember the cricket ground were adamant that they missed the place,
and that losing it was a serious loss for the town. The same people also were
admitting that they never actually went there to play or watch cricket. I found
myself thinking the same about the Eurostar terminal just up the road. People
regularly whinge about what a loss it is for the town that the international
trains don’t stop there any more…the same people who never once caught an
international train.
I had a look at my emails. A friend had been round
Kings Wood yesterday and couldn’t find one of the geocaches that I’d hidden
there. That set our walk for today.
I got dressed, squirted my armpits, and had a spray
round with the smelly stuff. I use Adidas Ice spray as I like the smell, but
I’ve discovered something. For ages I’ve been getting the fifty millilitre bottle which costs nearly a
tenner. I’ve just discovered that a bottle of the same stuff which is twice the size costs three quid less.
It pays to pay attention.
As we drove to the woods so there was a documentary on the radio about Ishtar (the
Mesopotamian goddess of love, sex and war). Wasting half an hour of
air-time like this, is it any wonder why the BBC’s radio budgets are being cut
back?
We went to the lower car park at Kings Wood and walked
out to where the supposedly missing geocache was. I couldn’t find it so I
popped out a replacement. I had intended to then walk all of the stretch of the
Pilgrim’s Way that goes through Kings Wood, but it is at the extreme east side.
Much of it is alongside a fence, and just on the other side of that fence were
pheasants. Loads of pheasants. The dogs went just the teensiest bit psycho. I
wasn’t going to risk them getting on the other side of that fence so we
diverted up past the dew pond… and Treacle went for a spuddle. Still, better a
wet dog than an errant dog. To be fair to the dogs for all that they went
sprinting after the pheasants they all came straight back what called.
As we walked I spotted something. Just in front of us
was a stag. Right on the path and clearly watching us. I slowed down and got my
phone's camera on the case. The dogs had seen the stag and were just quietly
watching him. We carried on walking slowly, and got to about fifty yards away
from him when he slowly turned and trotted into the trees. I thought the dogs
might have given chase, but they just carried on following the path we usually
take.
We came home where the dogs had their bellies rinsed
off. After the rain of the last couple of days the woods had been muddy.
When shopping last night “er indoors TM” had
come home with Whitby buns. We had them with a cuppa. Very nice. I then beefed
up one of the photos I’d taken of the stag. I cropped out the edges of the
photo to concentrate on Morgan and the stag, and sharpened it. When I posted up
the photo, Facebook said that it had to have the label of “AI content”. Seriously?
I Munzed. I Wordled from “meant” to “reset”.
I wrote up some CPD, then set off for the
afternoon’s adventure.
I drove over to Canterbury. I popped into Go Outdoors
to look at their walking boots. They’ve certainly dropped in price.
From there I went up to the hospital where I had an
appointment for nerve conductivity tests to assess how bad my carpal tunnel
syndrome was. The nice lady rigged me up to loads of electrodes and zapped me
for fifteen minutes then announced that my nerve conductivity was fine and I
didn’t have carpal tunnel syndrome. She seemed happy about that, but seemed
rather miffed when I told her that my hand still hurt, and that as we spoke my
left thumb was completely numb.
We decided that going back to the GP might be a plan,
but the nice lady said that as we get older we get these aches and pains which
don’t seem to have any definite diagnosis. Ho hum…
I came home and we did “FEED THE FISH” which is
always popular with the dogs… well, with the girls. Morgan tends to give it a
miss. I made us both a cuppa, and got stuck into Meowdoku for far too long.
“er indoors TM” boiled
up a rather good bit of dinner which we washed down with a bottle of Malbec whilst
watching this evening’s episode of “Celebrity Traitors” in which Jerry
Hall ended up “redder than a fox’s are at gooseberry time” (to coin a
phrase).
I won’t say who got banished, but I will say I was
glad to see the back of them.
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