Tuesday August 9, 2005
Just goes to show what an early night, a decent sleep and the adoption of a rather more devil-may-care attitude can do. I’ve had a much better day today.
“Oh, to hell with them, Dolly,” I said.
She regarded me soberly.
“Yeah, I know. I should have said that yesterday.”
She graced me with a yowl, which I took, mistakenly, to mean general agreement. She soon put me to rights.
“Oh, sorry. You want your breakfast?”
This time the meaning of the “Mraaaaw” was unmistakable, even to a dull as ditchwater monkey like me. So I set to and fixed her breakfast—a bowl of tuna fish and another of crunchie munchies, along with a bowl of fresh water. The water is out of principle only—she demands water served straight from the tap these day.
Then I set to putting up a plate of fruit and fresh bread for my own morning meal. I’d run out of those delicious plums so it was an apple and an enormous orange, both of which were good enough. “I shall pick up some more when I go to Tesco’s, Dolly.”
This time she didn’t just fail to answer, she wasn’t in the room at all. She’d taken herself off for her post-breakfast nap. Hey ho.
So, after finishing my house cleaning, I sat down to wait for the one o’clock news, treating myself to a bonus chapter of Harry Potter. I finished early so the TV got snapped on and I settled to wait heart-in-mouth for the safe landing of the shuttle. My sigh of relief when the pilot executed a perfect landing and brought the vessel to a safe stop was as deep as anyone’s I reckon. Then I snapped the set off before the silly tart who was doing the news started ‘analysing’. Can’t be doing with that.
It’s rare these days to be able to follow a good news story all the way through, and I thank NASA and the astronauts and Uncle Tom Cobbely and all for achieving it.
After lunch and a nap, I set off over the country roads for my three-day provisioning trip, preceded by a whistle-stop visit to Do-it-All to pick up a pair of long-handled shears. They were cheaper than a new electric strimmer and a lot quieter as well as being more precise. Far more my style and I’m looking forward to getting to grips with them tomorrow.
The drive there and back was an hour of sheer, unadulterated self-indulgence. Mozart on the player and the aircon turned up full blast. I tell ya, this could become a habit. The thought of going out for provisions every day instead of every third day is greatly appealling. I’d do it, too, if it weren’t for an over-developed eco-conscience.
Anyway. That about wraps up my day. No news on the old house viewers. No sign of new house viewers. I had a happy one, though, and that’s good enough for me.