Again I woke feeling like death warmed up. I lay in bed for
a while hoping I might nod off, but didn’t, so I got up in the naive hope that
I might perk up.
I made toast; I say “made”, I actually burned the
stuff. How did that happen? The toaster usually only warms the bread at most.
But the lap-top sprang into action far faster today than it has done for some
time.
I had a little look at the Internet. It was still there.
This morning my Facebook feed was somewhat political. There was a lot of stuff
about the ongoing NHS strikes with some of the more vocal people having no
qualms at all about showing their ignorance. Extremely right-wing minority
parties aren’t going to support strike action. Do union activists *really*
not realise this?
And there were a lot of posts about the local elections.
All from either the independent candidates (who have formed their own party!)
or from the Conservatives who now go under the name of “local Conservatives”
presumably to distance themselves from the national party? There has obviously
been some squabbling behind the scenes though; my local independent candidate
was the Conservative mayor the last time I looked. And an independent in a
neighboring ward used to be as thick as thieves with the local Green gang.
For some reason neither the dribbling democraps or the
Labour party seem to be making much of an effort on social media locally. Have
they given up?
Being up far too early I left “er indoors TM”
and the dogs sleeping and started farting about in the garden. First of all I
got the old fluorescent tubes out of the two pond filters. That took some
doing; the filters instructions say the fluorescent tubes need changing every
year (which they do) but they give absolutely no guidance or
instruction about how you actually get the things out. Getting the tubes out is
easy; getting them out without destroying the filter is entirely a different
matter.
I then took the old leaking poggered hose pipe off of the
reel and pulled off the bit that connected it to the tap. Well… I tried to pull
it off. It wasn’t going anywhere. Eventually a Stanley knife showed it the
error of its ways. I attached it to the new hose pipe I got last weekend, run
it out and set up my pond filter cleaning arrangement in which I suspend a
humungous flowerpot over the drain and wash the fish poo out of the filters.
A minute to type; two hours to do.
By then “er indoors TM” was up and about
so we installed dog-proofing into her car. Yesterday when we went out (and
came back) we started with three boot dogs and ended up with only one as
the puppies jumped the back seats. Now (to their disgust) they stay put.
We drove up to Tenyham to carry on the Munzee mission that
we started yesterday, adding sixty to the clan total, and getting myself a “Beginner
Cubimal Wrangler” badge whilst I was at it. With ten of us in the clan and
five hundred “Greenies” needed between us, in theory that is fifty each.
In practice our clan is world-wide and some are currently in sub-zero
temperatures and understandably aren’t keen on scraping the ice off of lamp
posts to find the bar codes to scan.
Whilst we were at it we found ourselves walking past two
puzzle geocaches that I’d solved ages ago, so we did the geo-thing with those.
As we walked we saw an aquatic shop so I got a couple of
new fluorescent tubes.
We came home. The dogs went to sleep, and I installed the
new tubes into the filters. Far easier to type than to do. After an hour’s
fighting I finally got the filters going. They are leaking a bit, but the
leaking water is dripping back into the pond.
I then relocated our humungous “Neptune” statue to
behind the filters; I think he looks better there. And then it was time to mow
the lawn and pull weeds out of the gravel.
After two hours this morning and another two hours this
afternoon the garden looks pretty much the same as it did when I started.
I hate gardening; such an ultimately futile exercise.
“er indoors TM” boiled up a very good
bit of dinner which we scoffed whilst Bailey snarled at the telly. She really
wasn’t impressed with “Dogs Behaving (Very) Badly”.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have been quite so busy in the garden
earlier. I’ve caught the sun, I really ache, and the cold has moved on to my
chest.
I’m fed up with feeling grotty…
And today marks two years since my little Fudge died…
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