27 October 2014 (Monday) - New Ironing Board

After a decent night's kip I woke and turned awkwardly. Somehow I managed to pull a muscle in my neck, and it's been aching ever since. Over brekkie I watched the episode of "Family Guy" through which I slept yesterday. As I watched it I combed "Furry Face TM"; his recovery is odd. He's rather reluctant to be picked up, which makes me think his back still hurts. And then he chases around the garden like a thing possessed which makes me think he's on the mend.

SInce he had been chasing around the garden like a thing possessed earlier, I decided to take him for a little walk this morning before work. Comapred to our usual walks this wasn't much at all; usually we would be out for over an hour; today we only went to the off-licence and back. It was a stroll of about two hundred yards, and at the end he wanted to keep going. But we'll start gently. Once home he started whinging at an empty pop bottle; I gave it to him and he took it to the garden where he started savaging it.
With time on my hands I then sterilised the kit for syphoning the beer I'm currently brewing and put some washing in to wash and then to dry. Whilst my woolie-pullies were on the spin cycle and my dog was outside I thought I'd have five minutes sax practice. Despite slipped discs, "Furry Face TM" was there as quick as a flash and was howling along.

Eventually it was time to go to work. As I drove to work I listened to the radio. I know I shouldn't. It seems the public are up in arms about immigration again. The defence secretary has gone on record as saying that "British towns are "under siege" after being "swamped" by EU immigrants". He might have a point, but why is that? When one advertises a vacancy and there is not a single applicant from a UK resident, what should one do? There are several firms locally with that problem. It's such a shame that such xenophobia seems to be a vote-winner; look at how well UKIP are doing in the polls despite having no policies at all and despite forming alliances in Europe with racists and holocaust-deniers.

I took a detour to take the fragments of the old ironing board to the tip; it was only when I got there that I remembered that I had a *lot* of other rubbish I should have taken with me as well.
And then I looked at getting myself a replacement ironing board. Several people had suggested I try Dunelm Mill; I drove there, and after fifteen minutes of wandering randomly around the place I eventually discovered a disinterested assistant. I asked her about ironing boards; she vaguely waved her hands in the general direction of some stairs. She didn't *actually* say "get knotted baldy", but that was definitely the vibe I picked up. I went up those stairs at which she had waved, and, after having been mistaken for an assistant several times by other customers (equally in need of assistance), I finally found ironing boards priced at eighty quid each.
Having scraped out my pants (the price had been something of a shock) I drove to the nearby cheapo-bargains shop where I got substantially the same ironing board for only fifteen quid. That saving of sixty-five pounds will come in handy.
I also got some jollop to un-bung the drains; the bath has been taking too long to empty just lately.

I went to work; I did my bit. Over lunchtime I blew my saxophone unaccompanied by a certain small dog. I can now do the first two bits of "Baker Street"; "Amazing Grace" is better than it was, and I'm finally getting to grips with "Goose on the Razzle". I've had some enquiries about this tune; I can now confidently say that it goes "da-da-da-daaa, da-da-da-daa-a-a" then it goes a bit fancy, then some more "da-da"s and then I get stuck. But I think I'm good for the first two thirds of the tune now.

And then after what seemed a rather long day (I blame the clocks going back) I came home and poured my unblocking jollop down the plug hole in the bath. It didn't seem to do much good.
And having got that new ironing board home it looks rather small...

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