Pink Laundry, Conservative Liars and Pies.

After several sad episodes this week I rose determined to ensure a successful day.

I was careful to make sure the kettle was filled with water, that I switched it on to boil, and that the tea and milk were in the cup before I filled it.  Special care was taken not to spill tea over the (now very clean) laptop again.

I also placed my shoes near the door so that I would remember to put them on before leaving.  Something I failed to do twice this week.

Impressed by my ability I continued my day by changing the bed, removing the new scarlet duvet cover after a month or so, and thrusting it into the washing machine along with the routine T-shirts and stuff.  I selected a shorter wash slot, I put the 'Poundland' soap goo into the machine, switched on, and left it.  

Being Thursday, (Thor's Day, named after the Norse God, why?  Was it his day off?) I took the rubbish bag and the recycling bag down into the cold weather (only early 70s today) and dumped them in the appropriate smelly places.  

Naturally, when later I made my lunch, I discovered so much veg in the fridge had gone off and another trip to the bins was required an hour later.  My lunch was delightful, as long as taste is not required, reduced priced pork chops with tomato and cucumber.  The choice based on whatever was lying around.  It will do.

After this the washing machine cranked quietly to a halt.

I removed the bundle of wet, soggy material and dumped it in the west wing.  

It was then I noticed a slight flaw in the day. 

The white shirt, of considerable age and, to put it mildly, somewhat done, had changed colour to pink!  Not wishing to be mistaken for a member of a 'Pride' parade this was dumped! 

Also found in the heap was a once white, hankie, and several other items which had darkened or changed colour, not always badly it must be said.  The scarlet duvet was untouched by this I am happy to say.  Hanging to dry, it appears to have suffered no harm today.  I might have to be wary next time...

Politico

 

Talking of mistakes, another vote occurred regarding selecting the person to lead the Conservative Party into oblivion at the next General Election.  The crassly stupid Braverman woman has been removed thankfully.  However, the crassly stupid and incompetent Liz Truss remains, and appears to be the 'Daily Mails' hope.  Mordaunt, possibly more vile than Braverman remains in second place.  The others, though I once had hopes for Tugendhat, will fail next time.  

We have had Cameron, who we thought looked like a PM but wasn't one, was bad. He failed because he fell for the ERG ruse about Brexit.  Theresa, equally useless, attempted not to be ruled by anyone, including those who spoke the truth and offered facts, instead appealing to the 'wide eyed loons,' and failed.  

Then we had Boris.  

I considered it impossible to find someone worse than Boris, but we have Truss, Mordaunt and Sunak in the lead!  I tell you, this is a judgement on us!  

Murdoch Butchers Forres

Having done all, with little energy left (how do women do all these jobs?) I found I had a space in the freezer.  Hmmm thought I, how about filling it with pies and Sausage Rolls, good ones?  So, it was off to Murdoch and by this time next week the fridge and freezer will be, like me, groaning!

Good innit?

Oh, and another thing, never go food shopping when hungry!
Don't ask how I know...

   

A Hard Day's Work

Dog tired today.  Ache everywhere, so much to do and so little desire to do it.  My only wish is to return to bed.  However, work must be done so, twice I set the washing machine in motion, twice!  Things are damp and half dried everywhere.   I hope the neighbours were out!  It appeared quiet, and at least the washing will not be done again this week.

I also contacted the landlord re the oven, they are usually good and will fix this tmorrow  afternoon if they can.  A new one, or maybe second hand one, will be installed.  Fine by me.  This one must have been here 15 - 20 years, and has worked quite well, though I noticed the thermostat was not always top notch a wee while back.  Still, for me it was OK, a proper cook may have fussed sooner.  There again a proper cook would have cleaned it more often!

After a trip to Tesco for the things only they stock, the rest off the day has been spent feeding my face on the things only they stocked, followed by large helpings of chocolate in a desperate drive to find sugar to give energy.  Occasionally energy appeared, occasionally a tooth crumbled.  

It was worth it.  

Tomorrow will be sleep day, no need to go out and merely await the man in the afternoon.

Life is so exciting round here....

 

I read the MP's are to debate Boris's partygate on Thursday.  I wonder if any will have the guts to vote against him?  I wonder what demands are being made behind the scenes for him and for individual MP's benefit?  Certainly lying and deceit remain in the air.  No sign of any leading figure rising to state honesty and integrity at this point.  If he did this would be fatal for the PM and possibly change the party back into a Conservative one and not the new National Front.  This however, we know will not happen.

Return to Normality

I did not leave the house today.  The need for an after Christmas clean up and the need to avoid the rain trapped me happily indoors.  I cogitated on the washing as the machine whirled the mixture around.  My mother did not have a machine until the 1970s and then a hand-me-down from a woman she worked for.  Until then all the washing was done by hand.  She must have grumbled often about the hard work, even though as kids we often er, helped.  Using the mangle was fun even if we avoided the hard part of the work.  She however, was lucky!  

Just imagine washing in Victorian times where much more clothing was the fashion, and not just much more of it but much larger outfits for the women.  All this done by hand.  The soap in those days was usually a long red block called 'Sunlight,' or 'Lifebuoy,' or some such.  It meant the woman had to scrape flakes of the end and mix them in water, washing the kids in the same fashion usually also, but maybe not at the same time.  It was the flakes that helped make William Hesketh Lever famous.  He and his brother worked with a local chemist to develop the soap, based on Palm Oil, he noticed the scraped flakes and an idea came upon him, he put the flakes in a box and 'Lux Flakes' were born.  This became the common soap powder, of various brands, we used way into the 70's.

Today, I poured a dollop of liquid into the machine, £1 a go at Poundland, and watched it go.  

The hard work for me was afterwards as I then had to try the variety of raiment that had lain there for many Christmas days.  I wondered where some had got to!  How can one person whow ears the same clobebr all week find so much in the washing machine?

This proves indeed that the Christmas Holiday is over, housework, rain, normality back, well as much as possible.  Boris lying in his teeth on TV, note the hair has been combed in an effort to make him look like a PM, children returned to school with no protection, no teachers and little hope from this corrupt bunch of gangsters.  NHS  worn out, told they must bear it as we 'are at war' while the NHS like the armed forces are deprived of proper equipment and support.  However, this does not matter, as Boris is still there and he and his people are still coining it in!

I am not sure nurses agree.

 

More Tuesday Twaddle

As I stepped out towards the Liberal Club last night I was entranced by the summer like evening.  The warmth in the air, the aroma from the grasses in the park, the setting sun, and the evening light.  All marvellous, though the phone camera is not good enough to record this well.  

On  the way home, under a somewhat darker sky, I attempted to catch the light from the Club window.  There is something attractive about light shining in the darkness, almost but not quite swallowed up by it.  

I did not attempt photos today with any device.  It rained, it rained and it rained.  Therefore I took to other objectives, doing two loads of washing, ironing the shirts, I had used the last yesterday evening, and worked through my emails and other items.  The 'to do' list was touched, but not by much!  The house, because of drying washing, now stinks!  It is however warm...

Workmen....!

 

Woman's Work

 

The JOY continues.

I awoke with the Larks this morning, or at least the Blackbirds, Pigeons and Rooks.  I could not sleep, I was too tired to rise, but I rose.  Breakfast took forever as I kept forgetting what I was doing.  Then I had to look at the washing machine.  I looked, considered, and decided it was time for lunch.

Where did the time go?

As I was searching the web for washing machine info my great niece began to question me re family history.  This meant looking out photos and sending them on.  She is very into this just now. 

Then, joy of joys, a man arrived at my door unexpectedly.  An electrician come to do the work he outlined weeks ago.  No-one mentioned this to me, the Landlord forgot to phone me.

When he had begun to break things, bang a lot, hammer here and drill there, she called. 

"Is he with you?"  She asked sweetly, her voice full of guilt.  

He still has to fix the other flats and she was unsure who would be in, I promised to keep his visit secret.   

Later.

He is still here!

He has put on his radio.

Some local rubbish station that I would not dream of using.  He did not ask, I do not mind but I do not wish to lower my mind to this bubblegum pop dross with cheery conversation in between.  He is used to working on his own, in empty flats, I do not blame him for that.  I would prefer working alone if I were he.  I just wish he would finish!

I canny get much done and need my siesta.

He is still here, banging and thumping.

Much later.

At last!  peace for my siesta - before I start clearing up.  Then I can play with the washing machine again.   Oh and by using my hoover he knocked over the kettle, don't ask how, l now need to add that to the shopping list tomorrow.

 

Murdoch's pies will arrive tomorrow by FED EX sometime before 6 pm, that means around lunchtime as usual.  Pie for tea tomorrow night.  

 

Monday Joy!

This week will be a good one.  I can tell.

For a start, I woke at 5:45 this morning, I was up by 6, and soon I had been round Sainsburys and back long before I forgot the main thing I went for.

The day stuttered from then on, though I did order some food from an online butcher.  Mince pies, known in this foreign imperialist land as 'Scotch Pies.' I also ordered other varieties with them, as these are impossible to obtain in this area, and this will fill my fridge for a wee while.  They work out at around £2 each, which is not much more than some rubbishy shop pies here cost.  The shop I found is in Forres, way up in the north of Scotland.

I was boasting about my buy, content in spending yet more money to save money when a crunching sound caught my ear.  The washing machine has stopped in the middle of a cycle and died!  I had filled the thing but did not realise what was already therein.  Too heavy for the old girl and something has failed.  Later, when all had ceased, I removed sodden clothes and now finished them, badly, by hand.  The water remains in the machine and I must search the web to work out how to fix or kill the brute.  

I am so happy about this... 

Boris has been spluttering about 'Tiers and'lock down' again.  I didn't catch what he said but will it make a difference anyway?  People will get together at Xmas whatever they say.  In some cases,especially with locked in grannies this may be a good thing, however, the danger will involve passing on a virus undetected.  Families have to make a sensible choice, sadly far too many will not.  January will be busy for the NHS.   

My family will use the excuse not to contact me, they have used it for 40 years so far, I expect little change there...

Just about lunchtime I was cosy, comfortable and just a wee bit tired.  Since then everything has gone wrong.  Now, I have been waiting on my cheap Tesco pie to cook, choosing proper ones made me hungry, I awaited the burning smell that always accompanies my cooking, I waited, and waited.  I then checked on the thing and found it sitting above the oven attracting flies.  Now I must wait again.  It is all joy at the moment.  I bet there will be no football tonight also, just what I want...

 

Tuesday Twaddle

Another joy filled day as the washing machine pipe was fixed.  Poor Kevin spent considerable time under the bunker fiddling with it but appears to have successfully healed the problem.  A trial run satisfied him, and he knows washing machines, so hopefully when I use it again it will be successful. 
To complete our joy John spent the rest of the time attaching tiles to the kitchen wall.  This too was successful and on Friday, probably, the grout will be filling in the gaps and then I can paint over the scratches on the wall, hoover, again, over the dust they create and live happily ever after.
Another good job finished, another satisfied customer, sort off, and another landlord looking at the costs and muttering things.  With next door now empty I expect the rent there will rise to £600 a month!  This means a rich, short term occupant, or a couple, of dubious background, to welcome into our midst.  Lock down, job losses and high rents, what joy to be flat searching at this time.

Naturally nothing else has been done.  Tomorrow I once again rebuild the house, look to the 'to do' list, and hope nothing else goes wrong.
I note the 'Russian Report' has arrived and the press concentrate on one paragraph, the one in which Putin seeks Scots independence.  They ignore the Conservatives avoiding examining Russian involvement because Putin's men are giving them millions in handouts.  Cameron, May, Johnson, a long line of corruption at the highest level, and treasonable probably.  All the while Dominic is running around killing the armed forces.  Why do the media not make more inquiries abut these things I ask...?

Rejoice! Rejoice! Call it all joy! Oh yeah!

Three days of hard manual work, lots of banging and crashing, much cursing, and we have a new kitchen with gleaming sink and fancy new hob.  How lovely!  Last night I hastened to Sainsburys for feed to use on it, met the same young checkout girl once again, she now thinks I'm after her, what is it about girls?  Returning to realise I had forgotten the main items!
However, life is good, the kitchen complete, the work finished. 
Waking from a dream in which crowds of attractive young women were sending their boyfriends to get me, I struggled though into my gleaming new world.  All was well, the light was bright, the day ahead was planned as a 'Chicken Soup' day, once I had gone back to get the bits I forgot, and then nothing but joy all day.
I put the washing on, secure in the new settings the boys had made and stuffed my fat face putting back the 5 pounds weight loss the bug had given me this week.
 What could possibly go wrong?

As I ate the water left the washing machine, down the waste pipe and trickled cheerily across the kitchen floor!
A mad, unfit, panic ensued, water stopped by placing bucket under leak at foot of waste pipe, cloths used to wipe floor, ensuring the floor is cleaner than it has been for years, and struggle to work out problem.  Machine off, sink also blocked, realise this is problem, make use of 'Tesco, 'Sink and Drain unblocker,' £2, which eventually unblocks whatever was the cause.  Pump sink and use second bottle of Tesco best to ensure blockage goes.  Later, with manhandling several pails and risky control of waste tube from machine, finished washing.  I did this quite well though now I have an even cleaner floor!  I just hope none went down stairs...  
At least I know where the crack in the pipe is and the boys will return, cheerfully, next week to fix.   Another, 'Tesco Sink and Drain unblocker' £2, will be obtained, the washing will wait another week now, that is not unusual in this house...
Too knackered to seek Chicken Soup material...

So now I sit here, eating my 'Ripe and Ready to eat' Bananas from Costa Rica.  However, delicious they may be but the energy is insufficient to force me to rise unless I must!  Once again I seek a new diet, to inspire energy, to lose weight, to save cash.  Bananas and chicken soup are on order, Oats in the cupboard, other things, including rice water, are being looked onto.  I may also have a word with the undertaker woman up the road, just in case...

Have you noticed that when you log in to a newspaper they demand you accept cookies.  To fulfil the Law they offer a chance to 'reject all' but this never works!  Next time you return it asks again, same choice, same failure.  This must break a law somewhere surely?  
This is either incompetence in every paper or just strange coincidence.  I do not wish to have their cookies, or indeed anything else from them.  However, the problem is how to stop this...

Nothing Day Again

I have nothing to say!  The day has been filled with torrents of rain hindering my attempts to walk the streets looking for lost coins so instead I did the washing.  Now how do you make that sound interesting?  You shove it all in the machine, and leave it for an age while it whirs round, remove the sodden pile and hang it up somewhere.  There it remains until dry, or kind of damp I find, and gets ironed (ha!) later.  There, that's interesting innit?  I paid a debt, bought milk and cheap cheese from Tesco, froze while crossing the park, and warmed my feet on the heater.  
Can you take much more of this?  I can't.
There is a pile of things to do noted on the recycled pad beside me.  In fact I just remembered I did one of those.  Mince!  I made mince, with veg, and it sits cooling on the hob.  The taste will be interesting when I get round to it.  Not quite sure what it will taste like, cooking is not so much a boring necessity, it is an experiment!  Who knows what that brown mush will actually be flavoured by?  
The rest of the 'to do' note glares at me.  Rather in the way women often glare when I say things. It is not an unusual glare, at least I often come across it, like that time I used the word 'fat' to a group of women awaiting the arrival of the woman from 'Weight Watchers.'  Man glaring in unison!  They had reason to use that diet organisation however.  
Indeed I was so lacking enthusiasm for anything today I looked up the 'Daily Mail' to see if the world had changed, it had not.  No news of anything important but lots of terror, death, outrage and fear, usual stuff then.  The real world had little news either, repeats of floods, Syria and the like but nothing new to excite pressmen.  The fact that Liverpool easily defeated Everton last night, that Manchester United also won and that the Heart of Midlothian play tonight was all pushed into second place in the 'Sport' section of the 'Today' programme on Radio 4 this morning.  Why?  An England team had won something!  It was merely cricket, and worse just a bunch of lassies winning, but to Rob whatsisname et al this was important news!  Tsk!  Some folks have no understanding of reality I say.
Possibly my feeling a bit light headed today may have helped my lack of interest, it certainly has resulted in two burnt hamburgers, mash spuds and beans for tea, and possibly an early night is called for, after I have listened to the Hearts game on the radio that is.  

Right, let's clean up this dinner....

 
   
.

Museum Morning

Brenda Howard

I spent a delightful couple of hours this morning listening to some knowledgeable women discussing Victorian life. The proposed new layout, the items in poor and middle class houses and the ability to die from hundreds of diseases we never think much about today.  Jolly interesting I say!  I learned a great deal, most notably I was again reminded of just how little I do know, and just how much knowledge there is out there in this world!  As we had mentioned in passing the difference smell makes to daily life, and the Late Victorians had a variety of aromas to inhale that we miss out on today, I had a quick look to see if there was any way we could 'imitate' the daily fragrances of the time. Sadly the only think people appear interested in imitating is fake vomit, and I found that hard to swallow.  The health we posses and the economic power we possess, even in such recession times, makes us greedy, keen to grumble at slight losses and ensures we find it difficult to endure today in a way our forefathers took for granted.  Then it was a case of 'get on with it,' as  there was no other option.  I am usually adept at creating sniffs and I am sure one will turn up somewhere.  


My surfing for smell was interrupted by the landlords handyman who had come looking for a leak.  I misunderstood at first and proferred a carrot but having been shown what to do with it i declined.  It appears the washing machine connection has been leaking for a while on the drip below and dripping on the chap downstairs. So instead of having fun I had to stand and watch an imitation plumber swear at the pipes. That is no fun I can tell you.  What seemed like hours later I got back to business but by then it was time for 'Flanders Stew' and 'Eggheads.'  



.

Technology

Technologically I have always been what they call 'challenged!' For instance, there is the time I suggested to two of neighbours my intention of fixing the damaged electric socket, a simple idea in my mind but one that ended when they both began making fire engine noises. They were, it transpired, attempting to tell me something. Back in the distant past while still at school my dad used to insist that I ought to attempt to learn a trade. This did not appeal to me in any way whatsoever. However the school woodwork lessons were often enjoyable. The smell and feel of the wood, the enjoyment of working with it did make such a trade worth considering. However, my failure to make anything that worked kind of put me off. Jesus being classed as a carpenter was one thing but I would have required a lot of miracles, and some pretty dumb customers, to succeed in that line. The first item made at school woodwork was a type of boat. Having been given the wrong type of wood by the teacher mine quickly turned into a submarine. Other highlights there included the teacher, a lovely tough man whom we all admired, especially when giving six of the belt on that Lochgelly Tawse of his, informed us somberly that fingers and hands must not be placed in front of chisels! Any blood found would lead to the Tawse coming out. Three minutes later I was striving to hide the blood flowing from my left forefinger from his venom! The last item we made was a magazine rack. All was going fine until the last term when we were transferred to a miserable old goat of a teacher who we did not know, nor like. Any idea concerning getting a joinery trade faded fast when the rack I was so happy with failed to touch the ground with all four of its feet. All those calculations and measurements were a bit much for my little brain and now I have descended into senility I suspect today I would be worse!

Metalwork was noisy and rough, although watching the clever dicks suffer the belt for disobeying the strict injunction not to pick up the anvil and show off was indeed fun! How lovely to watch the class hard men wiping away tears! We also had a thing called 'Mechanics' where our favourite teacher attempted to make us understand that "When force 'A' pushes down on a pivot, force 'B' pushes upwards." Simple indeed, but our eleven year old brains found this too much. I still do not understand what that was all about? Looking back it is clear that a trade as a joiner would have been more useful than anything else I have done, although being sacked as "Useless" several times may have hindered my apprenticeship somewhat. I may well have learnt something useful and money making. However I chose an easier path, downhill!

I can recall spending weeks attempting to blow up the tyre on my bike. No pump would work and it took for ever to find one that did. I once had a motorbike, oh yes indeed, and a slight problem occurred, well two actually, the first was something wrong inside and the second I could not get the screws to turn to fix it! Hampered by this slight problem I ended up selling it to my neighbour. He then complained it had problems! There have been broken radios, TVs, Videos that would not connect with TV's and Freeview boxes that did connect, but would not work. I even treated a plant I was owned so well it committed suicide from the fourth floor! It could have been worse! Once, while aiding a nurse who complained the oxygen cylinder was not working and the patient was therefore in a life threatening situation I spent a considerable time changing cylinders, fighting with the beast and, eventually, realising she had allowed the tube from the oxygen to run under the wheel of the bed! The patient got such a boost from the simple act of moving the bed he nearly flew out the window!

Thus understanding my I refer to the washing machine with trepidation.
When I installed it all went well, except the water overflowing the standpipe of course. However I overcame that problem by transferring the waste pipe to the sink, so that's covered. Then just before Christmas the silent hermit down below attempting to play the school clype by complaining in a somewhat snooty manner about water coming through to his bathroom ceiling. He was at pains to specify that it "...wasn't his fault." Naturally I informed the landlords lass that this was occasioned after the original standpipe problem when the machine was first installed and that this had now been dealt with. I may have inadvertently added that he was a right wee nyaff and needed a good healthy kicking....in love naturally.

To ensure no leaks of any sort occurred I was told by an expert, to turn off the blue tap when not in use. This avoided any leaks, and I settled down content and happy. Today, while the central heating was pumping away, removing all the nasty cold air that we really do not require, I turned on the blue tap just before I pushed the button on the washing machine. Water spurted out and went everywhere and I suffered a realisation. I realised that there had indeed been water drenching the inbred silent one downstairs, as I had the blue tap open for the first two or three weeks since the machine arrived! Water must have leaked out everytime I used the heating! ooer missus! So we have the tricky situation in which I was wrong, (please disregard that last statement) he was indeed suffering an inundation of wet type water, and I blamed him! Naturally had he actually knocked on my door when he noticed this rather than run off to teacher something could have been done about this before now. However he never knocks on the door to complain, or for anything else. I suppose putting that dead rat at his door the other day did not please him either? There's no pleasing some people.

Correct amendments have been made to the system, and his ceiling will be shoddily repaired by the landlords chief bodger soon after New Year. I wonder if I ought to tell him my mistake, or just let him stew in his dislike of me? Hmmm, perhaps I will leave it like this, there is always something else to arise and annoy him with at a future date.