Saturday December 8, 2007
I’d hoped our plans for the future would be in the public domain sometime this past week. Well, they’re not. I’m being good, biting my lip, keeping my controller circuits turned down to minimum, and waiting for the release form.
If I can be patient about it, I reckon the rest of the world can wait a while longer.
Yesterday we started carrying storage units down from bedroom three, on the top floor, to the new dining room, on the ground floor. Well, I say “we” but really it was Graham did the carrying, with me steadying and guiding to top to avoid damage. We’ll like as not complete that task today, taking long intervals between times so’s I can recover.
I’m not as fit as I ought to be, and I’m a lot more fat than I want to be. I’m hoping to begin a change of regime to correct both conditions quite soon. The scrag-end of the year is not the best time to start a diet but I’ve made a very small start already and intend to continue it, increasing in intensity until I can take on my daily walk again. Then the endor-fo-whatsits will kick in and the process will, hopefully, take on its own momentum. I really don’t mind admitting that, for all these years as a thin man, there’s been a fat man trying to get out. I’m darned if I intend to let him have it all his own way.
Mind you, today would not be a good day to go out walking anyway. There’s a half-gale battering the house, bringing in sheets of cold rain to refrigerate the air. I’m sitting by my top-floor study window, open just a crack, and enjoying the blast of air that whistles through. Cold, but moist.
I’ve been complaining about the dry air in the house for some while now as we shut down for the winter and are obliged to cut down ventilation to a bare minimum.
“What we need is a humidifier for the bedroom and living room,” I said.
“Hum,” said Graham, which is his way of acknowledging that there’s some truth in what I say, he doesn’t agree with me.
Then, late last night: “What we need is house plants,” he said.
“Brilliant,” said I. “Can we go out tomorrow and get some?”
“Too busy tomorrow. Don’t press your luck.”
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