I slept well. I stepped on the scales and saw I’d not
lost any weight this week. Mind you bearing in mind the epic pig-outs of the
weekend I suppose holding steady is something of a result. I made toast… as the
toast cooks I usually empty the dishwasher. Someone (me) didn’t set the
thing going last night. Woops.
As I scoffed my toast I peered into Facebook as I do.
Quite a few people had “liked” and commented on what I’d been up to over
the weekend. Such a shame that not many people had posted photos of what they
had been up to. Either no one had done anything, or no one wanted to show the
world their antics. A disappointment; being a very nosey person I love seeing
what everyone else has been up to.
I had some emails. My credit score with Credit Karma
has gone down. Meanwhile my score with Experian has gone up. How does that
work?
I took the dogs up to Kings Wood for a walk. We parked
in the lower car park as we’d had reports of missing geocaches near there. One
was missing; we replaced it. The other was broken. Totally smashed. Someone
found it laying on the ground in pieces on Saturday. I sighed and replaced it.
We then carried on with our walk. Unusually we didn’t
see any deer; we’ve seen loads this year. The dogs didn’t roll in anything (swamps
or poo), we didn’t see any normal people. The walk was rather uneventful.
And we didn’t even need a bath when we got home.
I had a quick cuppa then washed the car. As I washed
so not-so-nice-next-door came out and started whinging about the nappies
and cans of Red Bull which are appearing in her garden. She claims that over
the last few months nappies and cans of Red Bul have been appearing in her back
garden. She made a point of saying she wasn’t accusing us of flinging things
over the fence, but she had no idea where they might be coming from. Quite
frankly neither have I. I told her that we don’t drink Red Bull (which we
don’t) and that when littlun stays, her nappies go in the bin. She saw the
admission that we sometimes have a baby in the house as an admission of guilt,
got into her car and went off.
I got the pressure washer out and cleaned up our front
garden, and the garden of the next-door that I (allegedly) don’t drop
nappies into. Nice-next-door was made up that I jet-washed her garden.
It was no trouble; It’s such arse ache setting up the pressure washer that once
it is all ready to go I might as well make full use of it. And with the front
of the house cleaned I had a little go at jet-washing the stepping stones in
the back garden, then topped up the planters with soil. They had settled
somewhat over the winter.
“er indoors TM” called
me in for a cheese sandwich, then I went back outside again. Last year “Daddies’
Little Angel TM” got me some rather pretty hummingbird
garden ornaments which I put onto one of the garden planters. I potted some of
the sweet pea seeds we saved from last year’s sweet peas, and then I reviewed
the situation. There’s loads still to do in the garden. One of the stone
planters we got from Whelans a few years ago is crumbling. Replacing that and
re-potting what is in it needs to be my next project. Then I need to pull the
weeds out of the other planters and top up the soil in them. The lawn needs
mowing. And give it a week or so and I will need to be getting the pond going
again. I’ve long-term plans to totally re-vamp the big garden fountain, the
lawn needs feeding and mowing…
I decided to stop. If I do too much garden stuff I
can’t move for a day or so. In retrospect I should have done semi-retirement
thirty years ago when I was still limber enough to do all these jobs.
I made us both another cuppa, wrote up some CPD, and
re-vamped the spreadsheet I use to monitor how much money I squander. I’ve had
this genius idea that I might allocate a couple of hundred quid a month on
petrol rather than starting off thinking I’ve more money than sense (which
isn’t difficult) only to find I’ve no money to get to work because I blew
all the petrol money on Lego.
As I re-vamped I had a phone call from Jonathan from
the Three network. At the risk of appearing racist I would hazard a guess that
he was no more a Jonathan than I am a Rashid. I let him waste ten minutes of
his time going through his spiel as I looked up his number on Who Called Me. Apparently he number had been
looked up over two hundred times and had been reported as a scam, so after I’d
wasted more of his time I offered him a one-off deal. He could either get
stuffed or piss off. He hung up; I blocked the number.
“er indoors TM” boiled up fish
and chips ten went bowling. I watched the last episode of “Star Trek:
Discovery” which rather dragged on a bit and ended not so much on a
cliffhanger as a disappointment…
A decent show ending doesn’t have you looking up
on-line to find out what it was all about.
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