Morning Moan

A Facebook post from this time last year as we were coming out of lockdowns

20 January 2022 at 08:28

Very pleasant evening at the People's Theatre with Pearl and friends.  We were sure we'd seen The Hollow as a Poirot on tv, but here it was a Scotland Yard inspector and his sidekick. None the worse for that.  Pearl gave me a lift there and back and we had a glass of fizz at Mrs Mobilephone's before roughly eight of us ladies of a certain aged promenaded down her street to the theatre.  I've seen Ms Marx on a few zoom meetings so it was lovely to see her in the flesh and have a non-overheard conversation.  Lovely to see 

Mrs Leftfoot, Mrs Walker and the two Janes too.

On the down side I rehurt my arm trying to writhe off the lid of a bird-food bucket yesterday afternoon.  I had to get Thunderthighs to come and open it for me.

And this morning we were roused by a scream because the water pressure had fallen and so it was cold.*

Just what you need first thing; to get up and fiddle with the taps on the undercarriage of the boiler, peering blearily at the little green and red clockface thingy to get it up to 2 (two what I've no idea).

"I've had enough! I'm sick of it keeping on doing that!"

Three times in ten years isn't bad.

It wasn't as if Thunderthighs was trying to have a shower; he was only washing his hands.

I'd say 'things can only get better' but I know different.

 

Bess Cavalier  Have I missed a post.  What have you done to your arm? 

Bentonbag  Last Sunday we went to Cambois and got parked where we didn't have to walk far to find wood as loads has been washed up towards the slipway.  Ferretfingers took his good saw and we sawed lengths off trees that would fit in the car with one of the back seats down. We did two or three trips back and forth between the car and beach with them, much to the interest of the locals.  Thunderthighs also filled the big blue Ikea bag up with logs the water had kindly broken up into suitably short (<yard) lengths.   

The heap in the garage is now up to the window and Ferretfingers will have hours of sawing fun.  All that humping and hoying has pulled something in my right forearm, 

to add to the joy of a stiff painful shoulder.  Combing my hair is no longer fun.

Bess Cavalier  I can imagine.  There are some things I can do equally well with my left hand, but coming my hair isn’t one of them.

 

🙍🙍🙍

 

*Almost exactly the same thing happened this morning:  theatre last night; E119 flashing on the boiler when I went to see why the radiators were cold.  Hence the late blog.