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The unpacking continues
Beginning to wonder when the house is ever going to be tidy. The house clearance chap arrived this morning and took away all my unwanted furniture apart from a wicker ottoman which I had forgotten about because it was covered with small boxes. That'll mean another trip to the tip someday.
I unearthed more plastic bags, and enough toiletries--soaps, toothbrushes, talcum powder, bath oils, moisturising creams--to stock a small shop. The bath oils might have been Christmas presents so I hope no one gives me any more this year.
The helpful neighbour rang to say that he'd come round tomorrow morning to look at the wall in the kitchen where the airbricks used to be to see what needed to be done. There's one vent and one hole which contained a plastic carton of rat, mouse probably, poison until I discovered it a few months ago and threw it away. I asked my mother about it and she thought it must have been there for years. It put me off the house but she assured me that there had been no signs of mice for years.
Thought for today
Ask yourself whether you are happy, and you cease to be so.
John Stuart Mill, (1806 - 1873)
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16.11.06 20:00
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Little by little
I am now knee-deep rather than chest-deep in boxes. Today I unpacked books. I have enough for a small library but not the space. Some might have to go; I am not going to fill the house with bookcases like my parents did.
In preparation for the arrival of the helpful neighbour, I removed the newspaper and an old cloth that I'd put in the hole in the wall in the kitchen to keep out the draft from the airbrick without the mesh vent, and in the process noticed that a pair of red rubber gloves had fallen behind the sink. Having retrieved them with the curved handle of an umbrella, I then saw what looked like a pile of white granules further along in the space. This turned out to be a pile of dishwasher salt that must have been spilled goodness knows when. Must ask my mother when next I see her. Climbing under the sink I scooped out by hand as much as I could.
The HN arrived and enlarged the two holes; plaster and mortar came away in his hands. The crumbly mortar of the houses round here is legend. I collected four bricks from the garden and scrubbed them to clean off mud and lichen so they could be used to fill the holes. They and the mortar will have to dry before the area can be covered in plaster. The kitchen wall looks better already, and there is no draft. The spiders that lived by the airbricks will have to find new homes.
Thought for today
Life is one long process of getting tired.
Samuel Butler, Notebooks
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17.11.06 20:32
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A lost generation
More young people are binge drinking according to a recent report. There was a question about this on Any Questions? In the Any Answers? part that followed, a caller said that his son and his friends were often asked to move on by the police when they met in their local park. The police, he said, never gave any constructive suggestions about what they could do instead. Read a book, I shouted at the radio, as I kneaded apple-bread dough.
I have no sympathy. The neighbourhood in my youth had no shops, clubs (apart from brownies, guides and scouts) parks or cinema. We weren't bored; we made our own entertainment. We rode our bicycles, we roamed, we skated, often to the annoyance of one old lady who complained that our thundering down the pavement past her house rocked its foundations. I suspect we thundered even more because of that. Little kids on roller skates are unlikely to rock foundations. We used to refer to her as 'Basket lady' because she once accused us, wrongly, of throwing a basket into her front garden.
Another caller on the programme suggested increasing the price of alcohol as a way of curbing young people's drinking. They must have a lot of money. I think alcohol is expensive. The last time I bought drinks in a pub (two months ago), a pint of lime and lemonade for myself, and a pint of Guiness for someone else, the cost was more than a fiver.
My bread is cooked; the smell is great.
Thought for today
Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it.
Old Testament, Proverbs 22:6
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18.11.06 19:24
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Some mothers don't half have 'em
There was an article in yesterday's Times about containers suitable for recyclable rubbish. Five were listed with brief descriptions; none were big, all were described as taking up little space in the kitchen. The prices were amazing; three cost under £25, and the other two cost (wait for it) £80 and £91! What is wrong with an old cardboard box? or a cheap plastic bin from Woolies? The most expensive one had a 'smaller section for organic compostable waste so smells don't build up.' Compost bins shouldn't smell; if they do then unsuitable waste is being used.
The cheapest bin, still expensive in my mind, was a 'transparent stackable bin ... with enough room for 15 wine bottles. ...The transparent design reveals your recycling habits.' Reveals your lifestyle more like; boozers.
Another odd bit in the paper that caught my eye was: 'Sainsbury's own-brand ready meals now come in containers that can be composted, along with 80% of the fruit and veg in its So Organic range.' Why buy fruit and veg to throw away? Wasteful. Could the writer have meant that the packing of the fruit and veg was compostable?
There was a letter in the local paper from someone asking shoppers in the county city not to buy sandwiches between 12 noon and 2pm because that was when those working there nipped out in their lunch break to buy a much needed sandwich. Sometimes the workers had to queue for 20 minutes to buy their lunch. Poor things. They obviously were too thoughtless or lazy to bring sandwiches from home.
Quote for today
Don't kill your wife with work, let Electricity do it.
Poster in electrical shop
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19.11.06 22:05
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Blow by blow
Today I bashed tiles from a wall. Never done that before. I shall be bashing for days; it is a slow, tedious process.
The helpful neighbour phoned at 8.30am to say that he could come round to show me how to remove the tiles from the shower room so I could continue the task. My heart sank slightly because I'd filled the shower room with all sorts of things including bedding to create space for my furniture and goods delivered by the removal men ten days ago. I couldn't see the walls let alone get to them. However, not wishing to look a gift horse in the mouth, I rushed round and managed to clear the shower by the time he arrived.
I found a sheet to cover the floor, and two basins in which to put the debris which I took to the tip in the afternoon, while he started bashing with hammer and chisel. In an hour we removed probably about one fifth of the tiles. I hope none of the tiles on the other side of the wall in the bathroom were loosened in the process. I have the task of scraping off the remaining adhesive on the bare area.
Will my next new venture be retiling the shower room? When will normality return?
Thought for today
Nothing is really work unless you would rather be doing something else.
J M Barrie (1860 - 1937) British playwright
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20.11.06 19:52
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Nothing is straightforward
When I switched on my computer yesterday up came a message from my anti-virus program saying that support for the version that I had would cease in January 2007. I spent a frustrating time searching for the latest free version. Eventually I discovered that there was a free version but it was 16Mb which on my dial-up connection would take ages, so I gave up and watched a depressing programme about alcoholics on the telly. It was depressing because everyone in it, apart from the staff in a hospital, looked so unhealthy. Their unhealthiness--bad teeth, bad skin, bad lungs--was self-induced. It was due to what they put in their mouths--junk food, junk drink and junk cigarettes.
Work on the shower-room continues. I've been to the tip three times with basins of tiles. Today the neighbour removed tiles above the shower unit to look for the pipes that supplied it. He found them close together sunk in the plaster accompanied by an electric cable. Unfortunately neither of the pipes has a stop-valve. Tomorrow we search in the loft for the paths of the pipes. I now understand why he and another elderly neighbour are not keen to employ workmen and prefer to do as much DIY themselves. As the neighbour sometimes says, there are a lot of cowboys out there. Some must have worked in my parents' house.
Thought for today
He sows hurry and reaps indigestion.
Robert Louis Stevenson (1850 - 1894)
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22.11.06 20:39
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Slow progress
The HN (helpful neighbour) and I didn't get into the loft to look at the pipery because it took us all morning to remove the basin and shower frame and door. The shower frame was so strong and firmly attached to the walls that I could have swung from it. It is now lying in one of the household waste skips along with the door and basin waiting to be buried for posterity. The tiles went into another skip, one for rubble.
We removed the basin, he removed the basin I should say, with a lot of effort but with little leakage of water. I had to put a finger over the cold water outlet at one point while he removed a connection and hastily replaced it with a screw-on cap. The old towels that I'd saved came in useful.
My little triumph was dumping the rubbish in skips at the household waste site without being noticed by the men. They were in their room having lunch and I was able to park by the landfill skip. Fear of being spotted gave me strength to nip smartly up the steps and heave the stuff into the skips. I took the precaution of putting the basin in a large opaque plastic bag.
My concern was because there is a notice at the entrance to the site saying that waste from home improvements will be considered trade waste and will not be accepted. It must be taken to another site and its disposal paid for. Judging by the contents of the skips this has yet to be enforced, but I took no chances.
Thought for today
Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.
Rudyard Kipling (1865 - 1936)
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23.11.06 19:47
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