There was talk yesterday of someone in the family
moving house. And also of a combi boiler. This morning as I scoffed my toast my
Facebook feed was filled with adverts for heating systems and removal
companies. We are definitely being watched, aren’t we?
There was also a really nasty argument on one of the
local Facebook pages. People were finding fault with the local council, and a
local Green activist (who I once knew reasonably well) was doing her
party no favours in the way she was carrying on.
Local politics is probably a thankless task, but in my
experience the last MP (who I would never have voted for) actually
replied to emails on their first sending, and replied promptly too.
Our current MP replied to me on my fourth attempt.
Independent and Green councillors still haven’t
replied to emails sent a month or more ago.
The trouble with politics is that people choose a
political party in much the same random way they would choose a football team
and then stick with that party through thick and thin cheering everything they
do and belittling everything any other party does regardless of what any of
their policies are, and of what actually is going on.
I had an email telling me of a new puzzle geocache. I
solved the puzzle in a couple of minutes and saw the thing was on the way to
Pembury. I also saw from the answer-checker that a fellow hunter of Tupperware
had already solved the puzzle an hour previously. I suspected that he was
already flying off west-wards, and didn’t bother charging off out myself. I was
right not to have done so – he’d logged First to Find before I finished my
toast.
“er indoors TM” went off to the
office at quarter to nine, and the builders arrived minutes afterwards At half past ten they finally got the old tap off and
announced they needed some part or other and set off to wherever you get
plumbing parts from. I sat with the dogs desperately hoping they would come
back. They were only gone forty minutes, but I did worry. It has to be said
that the new taps went in much easier than the old ones came out, and once all
was done and dusted they spent a few minutes talking about the cowboy who’d
fitted the bath. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that when (thirty
years ago) we wanted a new bathroom my old Dad wouldn’t hear of us spending
out on a professional and he did it for us. The builders showed me several
place where it was obvious he’d bodged it. But we now have a non-dripping tap,
which is a result.
With the builders finished and off to wherever it is
that builders go, I settled in front of the tell and watched a couple of
episodes of “Victoria” on Netflix. I can remember
liking that series, so I thought I’d give it another go.
“er indoors TM” returned from the
office, and I set off to Folkestone. I was on babysitting duty, so I took
favourite smallest granddaughter to the park. Having been chattering all the
way to the park about going on the red slide, she had one go on it before
losing interest.
We then wandered round the back streets looking at people’s
Christmas decorations. Back in the day every house was blinged up at this time
of year; it doesn’t seem to happen quite so much these days. We walked on to
the town centre where we stopped in Will Brown’s Ice cream
parlour. Littlun made great fuss of wanting pink ice cream; she
had three mouthfuls before announcing that she wanted to go home.
With littlun deposited back with her mother I came home and
tried out the new taps in the bath as I had a shower. They worked. Part of me
had spent much of the day wondering if they would ever work again.
And then I watched another episode of “Downton Abbey”
in which having lambasted Lady Mary for her dirty weekend in Liverpool, Grannie
turned out to be in no position to claim the moral high ground having porked
Prince Kuragin in years gone by.
“er indoors TM” boiled
up omelettes for dinner. I’m thinking of an early night – I’ve not really done
much today, but I’m worn out.
No comments:
Post a Comment