She wouldn't have a Willy or a Sam

No pictures - I had enough to cope with, doing a journey of more than five hundred yards with a car-sick puppy to worry about a camera - but today was a satisfactorily complete day, although nothing went entirely to plan, which in itself made it just right.

Yesterday was the anniversary of the departure from this stage of existence of our friend henry, so a few of us decided to make an Expedition to his first ever geocache and visit the spot nearby where his ashes are buried. For us this involved taking a car-sick puppy on a long car journey, followed by a long walk (when she's only been allowed outside the garden for 2 days, and is limited to 15-minute walks). We delayed our departure till three hours after her breakfast, so that she got some of the benefit of it, and fair play to hre she lasted for an hour before she threw up the first time. By the time we eventually arrived at the meeting-point (Nelly, you did say meet at Tanner's Lane, I've triple-checked) she'd bee sick a few more times and was feeling very sorry for herself. So was I.

Once we'd located each other with the echoes of "Why does nothing ever fuc 'scuse me, doorbell" ringing in our ears, finding the cache went smoothly ... until we realised that the bottle of cider (of which more anon) had succumbed to the law of gravity and emptied itself downhill ... (Why does nothing etc).

Then we set about locating henry's resting place to plant a replacement tree for him, the original one having failed to thrive. For an hour we searched, first with muttered curses which gradually became more audible as the frustration levels grew. We rang his sister to double-check the location - yes, we were in the right place - and the search continued. By this time I was sitting on the ground ("Am I sitting on him?") and finally called out "Come on henry, where are you?". No more than 20 seconds later Andy cried "Victory!!" a mere four feet from where we'd been standing around for ages. If only we'd asked him sooner where he was! I bet he was chortling at us! The cider? The last few drops were sprinkled onto the tree as a libation, sending our good wishes to our friend.

Hear the dogs howling out of key

And they think this is 'home', do they?



Acksherly it could be worse



What's 'caching'?



I don't know what a durdle is, and there's no sign of a door anywhere.



A castle full of maidens? Where?



I could be asleep, you know.



Where did that fat bloke go?



So that's a holiday, is it? I wonder if I'll get my 5.30 am walk tomorrow.

Where the sun shines brightly?

Well, we're back, and rather sooner than planned. The journey down was as expected and we got the tent put up in fine weather, which was lovely. So we took a little evening stroll down to the beach local to the campsite so Beattie could stretch her legs. The beaches down there are wonderfully dog-friendly, which makes a pleasant change.

Next day we got a couple of caches under our belt to break ourselves in for what we planned would be a mighty effort. The first required a fair amount of pushing and shoving and squeezing to retrieve ... but only minimal DNA was left behind on the thorns, so that was all right.

The Cornish have a different idea of what 'hedge' means - an awful lot of stone is involved.
Then it was back to the tent for a rest. Honestly, you'd have thought that for two people and a dog that two chairs, a double airbed and a dogbed would be fine, wouldn't you? Well that's wrong. You need spaces for three, because obviously Beattie isn't a dog, but she kindly allowed me to sit on her chair sometimes
and was willing to let me share the bed. Ned and I both fell off several times each night when she turned over or stretched.
Next day was fine and not too blowy, so we went caching in Boscastle. Guess where the cache is in this picture?
Some of the houses there are obviously only suitable for thin people with flat-pack furniture. This doorway is regular-sized, but the doors most definitely aren't!
Boscastle is still having reconstruction work done after the flood of 2004 but it's very much a thriving village again, which is good to see. We first went there in 2003 and I fell in love with this 14th-century building
which was totally washed away in the disaster. In the picture you can see the end of the building behind. The owner managed to salvage much of the stone when they cleared the harbour of cars, trees and assorted rubble and has rebuilt it. Sadly it's lost a lot of its charm.
A short drive down the narrowest lanes imaginable, where the car was scraping the undergrowth on both sides at once, and the grass growing in the middle of the road needed mowing, got us another couple of caches. Then the weather closed in.

And stayed closed in. The gales blew, the rain lashed down across, the tent rocked madly in the powerful gusts. And the forecast was for more to come. After a wakeful night waiting for the sound of ripping fabric as the tent was buffetted from side to side and groaned like a ship foundering on the rocks we decided discretion was the better part of valour and disappointedly packed up and came home. It was a shame because we'd been so looking forward to the break but we'd have been too afraid to leave the tent to visit anywhere in case the tent left as well!

Maybe we'll go back to finish the holiday in September - hopefully not coinciding with the equinoctial gales!

PS. It appears from the TV news that Boscastle has today been hit by a similar, though thankfully smaller, inundation. Perhaps we'd better not go back there ever ever again.

Some sunny day

We had a lovely time at the Jane mini-meet. Newcastle-under-Lyme is a long long way from the coast, so we were certain that only a TOG would have named their terraced house there 'Sea View'. Lots of things happened, like Marshy getting a fit of the giggles at some innocent throw-away line and nearly pebble-dashing the table with Space Dust; The Monster (who was A Star: grown-ups sitting chatting for hours are incredibly boring and she didn't once kick up a fuss) managed to spill glitter onto the carpet in her corner which will no doubt be there for ever and ever (I even found a bit on my eyelid this morning); several people played pass-the-parcel with MMLS, who was almost as much of a star as her Big Sister; a couple of
local caches just happened to be nabbed, and then it was time to go home.

Watching NCIS that night we heard the most joyously well-written exchange between two of the cast. "What did Ducky look like when he was young?" asked the young woman. There was a pause, then "Ilya Kuryakin" came the reply. Magic!

The oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree

If you're a straw-chewing rustic you'll be well aware of ye olde country weather prediction:

"Oak before the ash, we're in for a splash,
Ash before the oak, we're in for a soak".

After the overnight drizzle cleared we went caching and came across this splendid example of the state of the two species, one to one side of us, one on the other.

Oak

Ash

It looks as though it's going to be a dry year.

Oh, and one of the caches was in the traditional ivy-covered tree.

So here's my litany

Today we went to Purgatory. Despite the evidence in the mud of cloven hooves (Satan or cattle? You decide) it was surprisingly pleasant.

Oh deer, what can the matter be

Perhaps the deer wouldn't be quite as dangerous if they weren't allowed guns.

You're in their sights ...

Saddle up your horses we've got a trail to blaze

“The sun’s shining; what shall we do today?” asked Jan as she leapt joyfully out of bed in the morning. “Gnnnrrrrrrrrruuuhhh” replied Ned through several layers of bedclothes and small primates. “Ooh goodie, I’ll get ready then” said Jan, and off to the bathroom she scampered, looking forward to the day’s activities. Several hours later the chores were completed and the two were ready to set off on their Adventure in southern parts.

The journey south was uneventful (for them anyway; the chap on the hard shoulder watching smoke and flames billowing from his car might not have agreed) and, with only minor queries and tetchy recalculations from Henrietta-the-Navigator the first destination was reached in good time. “Should we have the picnic now or later?” wondered Jan, her tummy rumbling at the thought of the yummy sandwiches, crisps and lashings of pop which were nestling on the back seat of the car. “Both!” laughed Ned, so they each took a sandwich leaving the rest for their return, and off they set on the search for the treasure.

They’d made a careful copy of the original map with the clues and they studied it intently – after coming all this way it wouldn’t do to get lost now! But all was well and they skipped merrily from one landmark to the next, taking particular care to note accurately any details that might prove essential in the hunt. Potential disaster was narrowly averted when they noticed strange reflections on the ground ahead of them, and directly in the route they needed to follow. “That’s water!” exclaimed Ned, and they made a detour to avoid getting trapped in the bog. At last they had all the clues needed, so after finding a secluded spot to make themselves comfortable, they settled down to solve the arithmetical problems. “It’s that way! Come on!” said Jan excitedly, and the pair eagerly sallied forth on the final stage of the quest.

Along the path they went, lizards scuttling out of their way, until they reached the dark forest with its shaggy-coated guardians. “Come on, we’re nearly there” encouraged Ned, and bravely they ventured under the trees. And there it was – the treasure! It had been carefully hidden from prying eyes and its location was undetectable to someone without the map. Ned and Jan cheered and examined the contents of the treasure chest, taking a beautiful pen as their reward, and leaving a book for a future seeker. They carefully hid the box again and returned to their car.

“I know; let’s visit a local inn for refreshments. We can save the picnic for an emergency” suggested Ned. “Good idea” agreed Jan, and Henrietta heaved a sigh of relief that, once more, the two were following her instructions, and led them a few miles further into the forest to a Tavern. “Two glasses of your finest ale please, Landlord” ordered Ned as they entered the bar. “The landlord’s not here, but you can have your drinks anyway” responded the young man, and served them with alacrity. They took their drinks to a quiet corner and enjoyed the rest from their long walk. As they left to start the long journey home they left a parting gift, captured on a recent trip to the barren wastelands of the Far North, for the absentee landlord on his return, their mission accomplished.

Momma's got a brand new pegbag*

Yay! We managed to do 100 caches this year as planned! Today we did Pining for the "Ford"s for our 99th and Braunston Tunnel for our 100th. The latter was a much longer walk than expected (although a very interesting one), so I think it'll be one that sticks in our memories.

*My sister-in-law gives unusual presents!

There's a change in the air

It seems to be interview time. Ned had one today which seems to have gone well, but he’s not sure what to do. The workplace is a lot closer – at least an hour cut off each journey – it’s days rather than nights, but 5 rather than 3, and for a salary cut of £5000. Hmm.

After his interview Ned went to the site of a virtual cache that we thought we might as well get in the bag while he was in the right town and I was at home. No problem getting to the right place – the hassle is that the captured pic’s no good because the sun was in the wrong place. Bah!


And I have a follow-up interview tomorrow, having been recommended after the preliminary one I had last week. It sounds like the sort of thing I can do; proof-reading and inputting amendments, and liaising with graphic designers, for educational publications. It’s not quite full-time, but rather more hours than I was doing before – I’ll have to see if I can manage the hours to suit me, because I don’t want to leave the dogs all day, 5 days a week. Anyway, let’s see if I get offered it first, eh?

And The Boy’s just phoned up nearly in tears because at the moment they’re doing electronics and he’s never done it before, even at GCSE, and he’s completely lost starting at degree level. He’ll work on a particular calculation for 4 hours, and still get it completely wrong. I think unless his tutor can help him get this sorted, he’ll be one of the percentage who drop out. He says he doesn’t want to, but he can’t afford to throw money down the drain, doing something when he’s doomed to fail. He's seeing his tutor tomorrow morning, so I hope he'll get some help in getting out of this mire. I'm possibly seeing him tomorrow as well, so maybe we can get something sorted out.

On the road again?

We saw this mini when we were caching. I suppose it could be described as a ‘restoration project’. Or maybe not.

Walk this way

A fab day group-caching with Paul g0tlg, Jenny and Chris, and Stu and Sarah in Leicesesesestershire. A prompt meeting was followed by an hour or so’s rambling (and performing strange ritual dances)

in pursuit of the various stages of this particular multi, which was supposed to take about 1½ hours – which would have been accurate if we hadn’t managed to get horrendously offtrack on the final stage before the cache, ending up at the spot we should have been looking at from across the other side of the river; Ned sulked because he didn’t get to use his binoculars. I successfully avoided taking out anyone’s eye (though Stu came close) with the useful garden cane (required) sticking from my backpack, like the aerial on a dodgem car, and nobody fell in the river even a bit.

By now it was time to adjourn to a local hostelry for lunch (to which we really must return sometime because we were a teensy bit felonious). By the time we were ready to attempt another local cache we found it was past 4pm and we really had to get home. Now we’re finding all the places we ache – legs, feet, back, shoulders … time now for a curry, a pint, a hot bath and an early night. A good day in excellent company.

Flowers in the park overgrowing

When we saw that some farms are having their hedges flailed at completely the wrong time of year - all the berries for the wild birds are being destroyed - we decided that picking some blackberries had moved up the list of priorities.

Having a couple of boxes to put blackberries in is a castiron excuse to linger near picnicking muggles who are just about sitting on the cache you want to find. But the end result (both the find and the berries) is well worth the scratches and stings. We were surprised how few brambles there were in the hedgerows, though.

Mmmm - I'll be able to make some lovely blackberry-and-apple crumbles.

There were other interesting finds, too:

Your nuts, sire

That's where you'll find me

We went on a nature ramble today, and we found blackberries (yummy);


and crabapples (a bit blurry cos the breeze was blowing the branches);


and sloes (where's the gin?);


and elderberries (mmm, wine!);


and rowan.



Oh yes - and loads of remarkably well-grown nettles which stung Ned to mongoosery (curse those Romans for introducing them) - and four caches.

Good day, sunshine

This morning we returned to Burton Dassett and found yesterday’s elusive cache instantly. Yes, I had picked up the container without realising – very very cleverly hidden! Blindingly obvious yet incredibly subtle. Excellent! So we liberated both Travel Bugs and took them to a couple of other caches a few miles away. Usually we’d only take one, but this cache hadn’t been found since February – I’m sure their owners will be happy that they’re on the move again. One cache which received a TB contained a pirate’s eyepatch, which of course had to be liberated!

After walking the dogs we visited several pet shops and eventually managed to get a new lead for Millie, very similar to her old one. Then, having recently joined the National Trust (so we can park for free in Cornwall – yes, I’m not sure of the logic either) we popped over to Charlecote Park just before the teashop closed; verdict: not bad at all. We must have a look round the house some time. I'm still wondering why the guide in the Victorian kitchen, who we asked for directions, was wearing a pirate's hat ...

It's good to touch the green green grass

Because Millie can’t do much tarmac walking without making her toe really sore, we decided to take her to the local country park and see if we could finish off a multi-cache we’d started some weeks ago. To keep the other dogs happy I took them to the fields for a gallop so they’d be content to wait at home while we went out in the car. We got Millie’s lead on, loaded her into the back of the car and she settled down as good as gold. There was a bit of rustling, and paper-tearing and chewing noises, but we thought nothing of it, until we’d parked and went to get her out. She’d chewed the handle off her lead. Oops! Into the petshop tomorrow to buy a replacement! Luckily we’d taken the extending lead as well, so she still got her walk - a couple of miles up and down hill. She's a bit stiff now - oops again! (And no, despite getting stung to mongoosery we didn’t find the cache.)

Edit: Since logging the DNF we had an email from the cache owner giving a further hint. Would you Adam and Eve it, I actually picked up the damned thing without twigging? Tchoh! Amatuer! Guess where we'll be tomorrow.

What's another day?

Well, instead of starting work on the fence yesterday, Mr O’Reilly (name changed because I can’t remember his real one, but that’s more accurate than the genuine article) had telephoned (at 7.20am – eek!) to let us know his slabbing job had overrun and it would be today instead that he’d be round. Last night he duly turned up to unload fence posts and panels so he could make an early start. And he and his sidekick arrived at 8 this morning.

Now, you must understand that when MO’R came to estimate for the job we made several things very clear: one, that on no account did we want posts simply concreted into the ground because they always rot at ground level, the dogs put their paws against the fence to talk to the neighbours, the posts snap and the fence falls over. So he promised to concrete in ‘godfathers’ and bolt the posts to them. We also said that we wanted the posts all shifted along about 18 inches to have the awkward quarter-panel at the far end of the garden behind the compost heap rather than halfway along, and to make it easier I’d chopped back the hedge that was stopping the dogs getting over that low place. So when I looked out of the window after an hour or so I was surprised to see that the gap was still there and the new posts in the same place as the old posts – hmmm. On enquiry it seems that there’s too much concrete there to dig out (or something) so the panels can’t be shifted. So the hedge is now 18" too short and looks completely arse for no reason, and the dogs will be able to get over the top of the new quarter-panel that I hope he's going to refit. Drat.

My major Sybil Fawlty moment arrived when Ned, having gone out to ask them if they wanted a cup of coffee, returned to tell me that the new posts, 7 of them so far, were simply concreted in … I took a deep breath and went to discover why. “Oh dear, I forgot about the godfathers!” “As we explained to you, we think wood set in concrete is rubbish and it’s not suitable for this situation. So you’d better take out what you’ve done before they set, and go and get them and do it properly then, hadn’t you?”

He went.

They’ve managed to get about a third of the job done so far, and will return on Monday.

Apart from that, here are some things we’ve seen today when we’ve been out.


Toadstools 


Looking towards Brailes 


I love you, mum 


All roads lead to ... nowhere 

Please release me

We released our first cache today, and it was approved within a couple of hours! We’d tried to release it yesterday, but just as we were placing it we noticed that the paint wasn’t sticking properly, so we brought it home again, sanded and repainted it and had another go.

It rained quite hard this morning, which got the ground really claggy to walk on. As we walked across the fields to our chosen site we found the soil clinging to the soles of our boots, until I was apparently wearing platform wellies and Ned’s hiking boots had 3-inch heels. We ended up laughing till we cried as suddenly a clod would fall off and we were left walking lopsidedly having nearly broken an ankle plummeting down to our normal altitude. Our giggles startled the local wildlife, and we were thrilled to see both deer and a hare, to the musical accompaniment of a soaring skylark.

I wonder who will be the first to find it? It’s really quite exciting!

Edit: Crumbs! It's been found already!

CNPS: Still 66