19 June 2023 (Monday) - Rostered Day Off

I slept for eight hours last night which was something of a result. I got up five minutes before “er indoors TM, put some washing into the machine, made toast and had a look at the Internet. Some chap had posted pictures of his garden pond on the Garden Ponds UK Facebook page. He’d devised a method of controlling the algae by filtering the water through pipe insulation and duvet covers. Whilst it was an effective way of keeping the pond clear, it looked awful. Some keyboard warrior had suggested throwing in a supermarket trolley to complete the look… the chap had a point, but really hadn’t needed to say anything. I suspect he just made the nasty comment to provoke a reaction – and he got one.
I went to have a quick Munz from the sofa and my phone told me that from my recent Munzee activity I’d earned fifty Zeds. That’s about thirty pence to spend on in-game stuff. Not a massive amount, but better than a kick up the chuff, eh?
 
“er indoors TM gave the dogs their brekkie: I’d rather Morgan ate his brekkie than the bird poo he’s taken to scoffing. And with everyone fed I took the dogs to the woods for a little walk. As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about how the House of Commons is talking about what actions they are going to take against Boris Johnson today. Being sick of hearing about him I turned off the radio and sang along to “Ivor Biggun” songs for the nine minutes it takes to get to Orlestone.
We had a good walk, but the bottom of the woods were rather muddy. Over the winter months we don’t go to Orlestone as it is too muddy, and one day of rain had turned the bottom of the woods to a swamp.
 
I came home and had a little blast round the front garden with the “Bionic Burner”, then as I was hanging out laundry I had a stroke of genius. I pulled out my phone and booked a slot at the tip for half an hour later. I then spent the intervening half-hour getting much of the rubbish out of the shed and into the car. As I loaded nice-next-door waved out of the window, so I took some odds and ends of hers too.
I stopped off at Matalan on the way to the tip and got a job lot of T-shirts. Since I was last there they’ve taken to having someone on the checkout. Only one person, but that was better than the last time I was there. They could have had more on the tills had four members of staff not been gossiping about how smelly the beach had been at the weekend.
There were an equal number of staff gossiping at the tip too. With a myriad of receptacles of every sort of rubbish known to humanity you need a PhD in recycling to navigate your way round the place. But seeing how they were all too busy chatting to be bothered with the likes of me, I took pot luck and bunged my tat where I thought it was supposed to go and hoped for the best.
I got some floating plant pots from Bybrook Barn, had a quick shop in Sainsburys then came home where “er indoors TM was rather pleased to scoff the apple & cream turnovers I’d fetched home for lunch.
 
With lunch scoffed I then carried on. More laundry onto the line, then I launched my watercress. Having been looking all over the Internet for advice on keeping a pond clear, time and again I see the same advice – chuck in some watercress. So many people claim they bung in a bag of supermarket watercress and it clears the water, grows like a thing possessed, and if it overflows the thing it is in, the fish yum it up.
So I stuck a bagful of watercress into a floating plant pot and set the thing afloat in the pond. If it all goes west I shall just get a proper water plant from the garden centre but I have high hopes for my watercress; if only to gloat at “er indoors TM should it turn out not to be the unmitigated disaster she has confidently predicted.
 
I then got out the lawn mower and mowed. And immediately stopped mowing and chased the dogs inside. Morgan has taken to attacking the lawn mower, and Bailey copies everything her big brother does.
With lawn mowed I let the dogs out again and got out the garden vacuum. Amazingly the pups showed absolutely no interest at all in the garden vacuum.
It was at this point that my phone pinged with the notification of the confirmation of the morning’s booking at the tip (!)
As I tidied the garden tools away I noticed Bailey was limping. We couldn’t see anything obviously wrong with her leg. She let us touch it and maul it about, but she was definitely limping. She must have strained it somehow.
 
I really needed to get into the front garden to clear up after the morning’s session with the “Bionic Burner” but I was beginning to ache, and whatever it was that had made me feel grim yesterday was still giving me gyp, so I sat down, cranked up the lap-top, and set about looking at geo-puzzles in Suffolk in readiness for a few weeks’ time.
 
And with “er indoors TM off bowling I settled in front of the telly with the dogs and watched episodes of “Shameless” as the dishwasher dishwashed and the washing machine showed my undercrackers who is boss.
I’ve done more today on a rostered day off than I do when I’m working…

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