Sunday, June 10, 2018

All my Little Chickens . . .

. . .are coming home to roost.

D1 and D2 have both been overseas for the last few weeks and are arriving back today which is nice.  I have missed them but did get a postcard from D1 which, to my amazement, arrived back before she did. 

Winter has truly set in and the temperatures have been low with lots of rain and some gales on and off.  I am close to finishing my Pink Possum Sweater  -  one sleeve and the cowl neck to go.  I have been knitting while I listen to the Rachel Maddow Show so I am usefully occupied while I catch up on the latest from America where things are interesting but from a non-American's view are a bit dismaying.

When I announced at my knitting group that I had bought a stick vacuum cleaner I was asked just how many vacuum cleaners I had and I realised that I actually have four of them and they all serve a purpose.  I feel that my floors are finally under control and am about to start on my cupboards.  The problem is that there is nowhere to throw away things which I no longer need or use.  

The council has two roadside collections per year but we do not have any roadside so it is a matter of loading up a shopping trolley and wheeling it over to one of the residential streets or sneaking it into one of the many rubbish bins scattered around the shopping complex.  I have found that just about anything goes if one chooses a bin with a red lid.

I've finally officially resigned from COTA; I handed in my notice when I was diagnosed with cataracts in my eyes but it was all left a bit up in the air. However knowing that I am to be left with failing vision until such time as the ophthalmologist considers the risk of losing my sight altogether from the surgery is no worse than not removing the cataracts I have decided that now is the time to stop struggling with the COTA computers and concentrate on struggling with the many dire changes which Microsoft is making to Win10 on my own computers.

A limerick written by Arnold Bennett:

There was a young man of Montrose
Who had pockets in none of his clothes.
When asked by his lass
Where he carried his brass,
He said "Darling, I pay through the nose."

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