I
slept well. With puppies tiddled I set the washing machine going, made toast
and had a look at the Internet. Sadly the Queen’s death has been a godsend to
those keyboard warriors who love to argue. Rugby playing friends were singing
their own praises after some anti-Royalist chanting at a football match
yesterday. Republican websites were demanding the return of gems in the crown
jewels to the countries from which they were mined (hundreds of years ago).
I
turned the lap-top off, and had a little look-see through the boxes of books I
brought home from Irene’s yesterday. There were some really good books in
there. As I looked through I found several favourite books of mine, several I
can remember reading years ago (and am looking forward to reading again)
and many I had intended to read… Many years ago there was a second-hand
paperback book shop in Hastings. You could buy books cheaply and once you’d
read them trade them in (at half the price you’d paid) against the price
of another book. There were *loads* of books in that shop that I
intended to read… but they closed down.
Now’s
my chance.
I
hung out the second load of washing then had a little look at the pond. The new
all-singing all-dancing filtration system wasn’t working as it might; one of
the filters was clearly having far more output that the other. I took it all
apart, rodded the hoses through, cleaned out the filters… Eventually I found
what I thought the problem was. The old filter box that died a few months ago
had cylindrical wotsits inside. The new boxes both have spherical ones. And
being spherical they are the right shape to bung up the water outputs. You’d
think the manufacturer would have spotted that one, wouldn’t you? When I get a
minute I need to buy loads of the old-style cylindrical wotsits.
I
then did a little carpentry and got the waterproof switchbox off of the floor
and onto the fence.
And
then I spent a few minutes putting my new bridge-thingy into place and
arranging the shingle around it. I‘m quite pleased with how it looks.
By
then I was rather worn out. I spent a few moments trimming back that which was
flowing over the hedge, and then the family gathered (or our tribe, anyway).
The plan for today had been for us all to drive down to Eastbourne to see Dad
as we had thought he would have lasted longer than he did, But with an
Eastbourne trip not happening we just had a family lunch in the garden.
“Daddy’s
Little Angel TM” made baguette for everyone and brought along
crisps and cakes, and Auntie Cheryl spent a few minutes trying not to make
Darcie Waa Waa cry. I managed to make her cry right away… it would seem the
trick to not making her cry is to not look at her; she doesn’t seem to like
that.
It
was a really good family afternoon; it was only a shame that Bailey had to sick
up a semi-digested turd.
I
then spent seemingly hours ironing… what with one thing and another recently I’ve
not had much chance to see to that nonsense…
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