I had another iffy night. When I finally got to sleep
so Morgan trampled over me, then with his head an inch from mine had a vigorous
head-shake so his ears whipped mine very forcefully.
He does that from time to time; it really wakes you
up.
I dozed on and off, and finally got up at half past
seven feeling rather grim.
I put a load of washing in, and had a look at the
Internet as I do. It was still there. Some friends had been walking along the
Thames yesterday. Others had taken photos of last night’s auroras. It was good
to see their photos; that’s what I want to see.
I Munzed, and Wordled from “along” to “uncap”
in four goes.
Nice-next-door sent a message – could she straddle the fence with a
ladder so’s she could muck about on her conservatory roof? I helped her set the
ladder up, then left her to it.
We took the dogs down to Bonnington. We parked up at
the church and once we were going the right way along the canal we followed a
set of geocaching ad-labs. It was a lovely walk along the canal and back.
Treacle went in. Bailey chased a heron and then rolled in something foul. We
came back to the car to see an organised bunch of walkers coming down the road.
They stopped at the church, and as were having lunch as we drove past. It was
probably The Ramblers. I sometimes think about joining them. But I follow the
local group on Facebook and their average walks are about twelve miles. Perhaps
a tad too long?
We came home where “er indoors TM” warmed
up the leftover Chinese (from last night), and with the oven on she
roasted some chestnuts she’d gathered when we were up at Kings Wood the other
day. We knew when dinner was ready as the chestnuts started exploding.
With lunch scoffed I cracked on in the garden. There
was a definite sense of “work”; Nice-next-door’s boyfriend was up
on our bathroom roof painting the back of their house. The roofer was cracking
on with the roofing. I was impressed that he was out on a Sunday, but we’ve
agreed a flat payment rather than an hourly rate so I suppose it’s to his advantage
to get on with it. And perhaps (like I used to when I was full time)
perhaps he has a day off in the week. Or perhaps he doesn’t have a day off.
Many don’t.
I pulled rubbish out of the gravel, mowed the lawn,
and had a little tidy-up of the tat down the side of the shed. I thought about
cleaning the pond filters, but that will keep until tomorrow.
I came in and sat on the sofa… and woke up a couple of
hours later.
“er indoors TM” boiled
up fajitas (oh yus!!) which we scoffed whilst watching another episode
of “Lego Masters”. Her with the chest finally managed to get it under
control.
I woke feeling rather grim; I’ve felt rough all day.
Perhaps I’ll sleep it off?
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