5 April 2011 (Tuesday) - Stuff

Here’s a couple of signs of the times.
Yesterday when I was collecting my car I saw a notice saying that the garage wouldn’t accept a cheque as a form of payment. This made me think, and I had a look in my cheque book. The last cheque I wrote was last September (for the new boiler). The cheque before that was in August 2009.  Two cheques in two years: I’ve noticed that more and more places aren’t taking cheques any more. I wonder how long it will be before cheques go the way of the postal order?
And also yesterday I mentioned “My Boy TMs sleeping bag which he’d forgotten about  and left in the shed. Admittedly the thing is twelve years old, and has a couple of holes and needs an airing. But it’s a thick one and keeps you warm. It would be a shame to bin the thing. It would be ideal for a youngster for cub or scout camp. So I thought I’d try to unload it on the local “get rid of your tat” page on Facebook. I was rather shocked to find that I was the only person giving stuff away. Other people were asking for hard cash for stuff which could only be described as “right old scrat”. No one wanted my sleeping bag. It was suggested I gave it to the local homeless charity or pet rescue. I mentioned this to various people today – the consensus was that if I’d asked for money for it, it would have sold. No one will accept hand-me-downs any more.

Being on a late start today, I had some time to waste in the garden. Even if it was raining a little bit. The Koi are feeding well, and taking food from my hand. And they are getting bigger. I’ve been threatening to weigh some of the larger ones. Maybe once “My Boy TMs foot is better we might do that.
And then I gave myself a haircut. Many years ago I bought a set of hair clippers. Rather than queuing up at the barber’s, wasting time and spending money, I give my head the once over every few weeks. Cutting hair is a messy job, so I do it in the garden where all the hair blows away. Whilst trimming I could hear next door unlocking his door. And unlocking it. And unlocking it. He must have at least five separate locks on that door. All the fences around his back garden are thick with thorned climbing roses, and there are no gates in or out of his garden. Why does he need so many locks? Bearing in mind that as well as the rose thorn fences and the locks, he’s got CCTV trained on his back door, I can’t help but wonder what he’s got in his house that he’s guarding so avidly.

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