When the puppy wasn’t stomping about the bed, "er
indoors TM" was snoring. Add to that the sound of
torrential rain against the window and I saw pretty much every hour of the
night. Though (to be honest) had I
got up and gone for a pee at 4am I might have slept for the last part of the
night rather than laying there in some serious pain.
I gave up trying to sleep shortly after 7am, and sparked up
the lap-top over a bit of brekkie. I saw that the results of elections to the
committee
of the Geocaching Association of Great Britain had been announced. There had
been a major campaign all over social media to elect one chap on my Facebook
list. I’m afraid I’m rather glad he didn’t get in. I’m sorry to the offended
but a position on a national committee of this sort would supposedly involve
the ability to speak with landowners and lawmakers and to be able to travel
across the country. Realistically (and
with no insult intended) I don’t see how a schoolboy based on the south
coast would be able to do the job. And asking him to do the job wouldn’t be
fair on him either. I was a couple of years older than him when I was elected
to several committee roles in the organisation of the Boys Brigade in Hastings.
Had I spent the time I wasted on Boys Brigade committees on doing my schoolwork
I wouldn’t have failed “A” levels and
could have achieved so much more in life.
However the chap who specialises in posting spoilers to
You-Tube did get elected.
Despite the rain I took the dogs for a
walk. Fudge had a half-hearted woof at a fire engine, but other than that the
walk passed off without incident. We didn’t meet any other dogs, and we
probably only met half a dozen people walking. The rain must have kept everyone
inside.
Once home we dried off, and Treacle had
a mad five minutes. She winds me up sometimes. We’d been for a two-mile walk
round the park during which she barely left my side. Once home she charges
round the living room like a bat out of hell. Why not run off all that energy
at the park? That’s why we go there.
I hung out the washing I’d fed to the
washing machine earlier, and I sorted out the undercrackers I’d washed and
dried earlier whilst watching an episode of “Red Dwarf” on Netflix.
As I watched telly the dogs went
berserk. The postman had delivered some letters. But for every letter there
were two bits of junk mail. Flyers for estate agents, taxi firms, pizza
delivery… I phoned Royal Mail and had a whinge. As I said to the nice lady, I
don’t know how many genuine letters have been mistakenly thrown away with the
junk mail I don’t want.
The nice lady (Mickey) explained how it was all my fault; I’d never told them I
didn’t want junk mail from the postmen. She’s sending me a form to fill out
so’s I won’t get it from them any more.
I set off to work via Westwell. A new
geocache had gone live there this morning at brekkie time. There was a log on
it; someone had been for the First to Find and hadn't found it. I thought I'd
try for it; I might be lucky. I wasn't.
The clue was "big yellow"; I arrived at the specified place and found a big
yellow roadside gritting bin. But I couldn't find any geocache.
I sulked as I drove on up the A20.
I stopped off at Notcutts garden centre; I had an idea I
might pick up a Christmas pressie for "er indoors TM".
I was mistaken. At thirty-four quid for a woolly hat, I couldn't get out of the
place quick enough. I went to McDonalds for McDinner instead.
After McDinner I popped into Aldi. I needed jam and
biccies. Whilst there I had a mooch through their bargain section; They often
have all sorts of wonderful stuff there. I went in the other day for marmalade
and came out with a pair of pyjamas. Whilst mooching today I found something
which looked like it would make a good present for "er indoors TM"
or "Daddy’s Little Angel TM". It was some strange
girly fluid which was beautifully packaged. Was it perfume, make-up?... I had
no idea, so I asked a passing assistant.
He gave the thing a quick glance then announced
"that's women's shit, mate".
I didn't buy it...
