Elementary, My Dear Reader
It was windy last night, so windy in fact that our milkman was delayed in his deliveries, or at least I assume that's why the milk was late arriving. I imagine battery powered, open-backed vehicles with a maximum speed of about 15MPH don't fair well in weather like that. Still, he got here in the end. Unfortunately the empties had taken flight at 4am, but they've regrouped, ready for tomorrow.
And it's a 'Green Day': the local council's day for collecting all recyclable household waste. Again, due to the severe winds during the night, it would seem that the vast majority of the crescent's plastic bottles, cans and whatnot ended up in our front garden. Why, when our own rubbish stays firmly where it's put does everyone else's erupt into a bouncing merry-go-round echoing through the night and keeping me awake? Because the buggers don't 'rinse and crush' as directed and empty vessels, noise etc.
So that's air for you. Water - well - first there was the issue of a blocked washing machine filter, resulting in my newly washed jeans and Turbie Towel smelling like they'd spent the week camping in the Lake District. They're back in the wash as I write. Then there was a bit of a problem with the handle on my bucket breaking whilst said bucket was filled with disinfectant and water.
I've no doubt mentioned before that I like to visualise myself tending to a large holding in the country, as each morning I set the dogs free in the garden and clear their, erm, stuff. I sluice it down, all the while imagining that this is my farmyard and I am somehow free of suburban career slavery. Alas, I got halfway across the kitchen with the 2 gallon bucket, filled to the brim incidentally, and lost half the contents over the kitchen floor and myself.
All in all, it's taken two hours to get from the shower to here, just in time for the sun to gather enough strength to make my computer screen barely visible, although certainly not enough to dry up the muddy mess that was once my garden.
An interesting start to the day. I also managed to volunteer to knit mittens before I'd even got out of bed, so I guess I'm off to buy wool next, not that I even know whether I still own a pair of matching knitting needles, seeing as I haven't knitted anything since my eldest daughter was a baby.
Oh well, must crack on - things to achieve, yarn to buy and all that.
And it's a 'Green Day': the local council's day for collecting all recyclable household waste. Again, due to the severe winds during the night, it would seem that the vast majority of the crescent's plastic bottles, cans and whatnot ended up in our front garden. Why, when our own rubbish stays firmly where it's put does everyone else's erupt into a bouncing merry-go-round echoing through the night and keeping me awake? Because the buggers don't 'rinse and crush' as directed and empty vessels, noise etc.
So that's air for you. Water - well - first there was the issue of a blocked washing machine filter, resulting in my newly washed jeans and Turbie Towel smelling like they'd spent the week camping in the Lake District. They're back in the wash as I write. Then there was a bit of a problem with the handle on my bucket breaking whilst said bucket was filled with disinfectant and water.
I've no doubt mentioned before that I like to visualise myself tending to a large holding in the country, as each morning I set the dogs free in the garden and clear their, erm, stuff. I sluice it down, all the while imagining that this is my farmyard and I am somehow free of suburban career slavery. Alas, I got halfway across the kitchen with the 2 gallon bucket, filled to the brim incidentally, and lost half the contents over the kitchen floor and myself.
All in all, it's taken two hours to get from the shower to here, just in time for the sun to gather enough strength to make my computer screen barely visible, although certainly not enough to dry up the muddy mess that was once my garden.
An interesting start to the day. I also managed to volunteer to knit mittens before I'd even got out of bed, so I guess I'm off to buy wool next, not that I even know whether I still own a pair of matching knitting needles, seeing as I haven't knitted anything since my eldest daughter was a baby.
Oh well, must crack on - things to achieve, yarn to buy and all that.
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