I slept like
a log, for which I was grateful. Over brekkie I downloaded my latest Wherigo (as
one does) and was utterly unable to get it to fail in the way that I was
told it failed over the last few days. Perhaps I *had* fixed it properly?
So why did it play up recently?
I made some toast. As I scoffed
it I saw that absolutely nothing had happened in cyber-space overnight, which
was for the best. "er indoors TM" announced that
she’d fiddled with the house wi-fi and our broadband speed was now officially “fast”. She quoted some numbers and
letters and acronyms, but it meant nothing to me. I smiled and pretended to be
impressed. I find it makes life easier for me to do that.
We got
ourselves and the dogs organised, and set off for the church at Stelling where
we met Karl, Tracey and Charlotte. The dogs howled and barked in excitement, and after we’d
rummaged round the telegraph pole looking for film pots we set off. We hadn’t
gone far when we met some caching friends we’d not seen for ages. It was good
to walk together and catch up.
We were soon
off of the roads and onto the fields; Treacle was soon doing her trademark move
of carrying a stick which was far bigger than she was.
The ground
was a tad wetter than it has been recently; we slipped and slided a few times
as we walked through some rather pretty woods. It was in these woods that we
lost Fudge. The voices in his head said for him to run, and run he did. I
eventually captured him scrubbling at a rabbit hole a couple of hundred yards
into the woods.
The woods
gave way to lanes, and we found ourselves in Bossingham a little earlier than
planned. We sat in the bus shelter and scoffed lunch whilst waiting for the pub
to open. Our friends carried on at this point. In retrospect they should have
stayed with us. It was then that the heavens opened, and it poured hard. We
took shelter, but three pints later the weather cheered up. We carried on with
our walk.
On the
second half of our walk we met sheep and some youngsters doing their Duke of
Edinburgh’s Award. We climbed trees. We carried three dogs over seemingly
endless stiles.
It was only a
shame that Fudge felt he had to disappear into the crops again.
It was a good
walk – I took quite a few photos.
As we walked
I was keeping a close eye on Pogo. He still pulls like a train when he wants to
walk with Treacle and "er indoors TM", but he sat
every time his lead went on or off, and he was far better with the other dogs
that we met today than he has been before. Dear Pogo is still something of a “work in progress”; he’s such a sweet
dog; he doesn’t realise what a big lump he is.
Caching-wise
I must admit that the hides weren’t as easy as I would have made them. But
that’s not necessarily a bad thing. However we did have a minor hiccup. At one
point we crossed a fence which did look to be somewhat “heavy duty”. It
was only a couple of miles later as we were leaving these woods that we saw a
sign saying “Private Land No Geocashing”. Whoops!
We came home;
bearing in mind our last four walks have been over ten miles long I didn’t feel
anywhere near as tired as I have done recently after our walks. Mind you I
think the dogs felt it. With "er indoors TM" off to the film
night I set the washing machine loose on my smalls, then all three dogs snored
as I watched the telly. Last week’s episode of “Victoria” was rather good, then I watched another episode of “Fleabag” in which Fleabag nearly porked
the priest. She would have done so had God not put the kibosh on her immorality.
Something God could do with doing a tad more often perhaps…?
As the tumble-drier
screamed about my undercrackers I did the monthly household accounts. My bank
balance *could* be better, but it could certainly be a whole lot worse.
Mind you I suspect I might not be thinking this in a month or so… holidays,
family weddings, a shower tap to have fixed, and the tumble drier actually
screams when we use it.
Still, what
is money for if not to squander on new tumble driers?
