COFFEE BREAK

Our Sunbeam Espresso Vita EM6200 is on the fritz I think.

The pressure seems a bit low and so the hot water only trickles through the coffee in the group handle.

I've followed the instruction booklet's guide and descaled the fittings which meant dismantling it and putting it together. Before you ask - I did manage to put all the components back and had no screws or washers left over.

It may be that the trusty (up until now) machine has had its day.

I looked on-line and discovered this gem:

 No shit Sherlock!

A potential fault diagnosis is - "Your coffee machine does not work at all".

What would we do without the internet?

OH YE OF LITTLE FAITH*

 A member of the blogging community recently cast aspersions on my 'tradie' wear.

Well, the joke's on that joker because today it came in useful.

Don The Builder came around to install scaffolding to finish off the cladding at the front of the house. This is like a big Meccano set particularly when bits are missing and some Heath Robinson alterations and improvisations are necessary.

I was the apprentice again and fetched and carried, lifted and banged and generally worked to instructions albeit obtuse ones. I've learnt that responses like 'beudy' and 'onya' is all that's needed in this building game.

Here's what an hour and a half installation looks like.

Don had to go back home for some more pipes, clamps and thingamajigs to raise it to roof level.

.

Finished.  I was able to get up and. with a broom, clear out the guttering at the top left corner of the roof - something I've never been able to reach before. Some little bastards of birds - sparrows - keep trying to build a nest there. No doubt Mrs Sparrow eggs on poor old Mr Sparrow by saying - "We need a nice view Harold." I should get Robert the sparrow killer up here to get rid of them. He could get his wife to make mince out of the carcasses.

The other builder - not Don but his sidekick will complete the job but will probably have to put a ladder up on to the top planks. Rather him than me.

Beudy!

* Not Little Flo who features in this lovely poem: DEAR LITTLE FLO - DUDLEY MOORE

THEY SAY EVERYONE HAS A DOPPLEGANGER

 OLD MAN 'DANCING'

ANOTHER OLD MAN 'DANCING'

NEW POST - THE FOOD CURMUDGEON

 

FISH TACOS

FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD ....

 

I don't know why but today I was thinking of my favourite lunches when working at Murray Roberts/Wrightons.

Driving the delivery truck made for a wide selection pf choice from a wide area so I was able to mix it it up a bit. No doubt Richard did the same.

Here are a few of my favourites:

• Chips from the Golden Chips outlet across the road. No driving required. This 'fry-up' franchise was the best ever and has never been repeated in quality. There were only a few outlets - from memory the Adelaide Road one, one in Courtenay Place near Manners Street and one in Lambton Quay.

• Hamburger from the kiosk in Kelburn Park. These burgers were unmatched then and I bet that they'd be better than the modern and expensive 'gourmet' burgers of today. They contained 'the works' including beetroot. Yummy.

• Pate and salad French bread roll from the cafe opposite The Town Hall in Wakefield Street. I don't think I've ever had a better filled French bread roll. It had pate, lettuce and tomato only but was scrumptious.

• Crumbed or battered snapper from the fish and chip shop in Kilbirnie. I can't remember the street but it was worth a drive there and a few of us would put our orders together.

• Cornish pasty from the lunch bar opposite the Basin Reserve in Rugby street.

• Chocolate brownie from the lunch bar in Island Bay on the Parade. Richard and I had lunch there a couple of years ago. It's now a cafe.

• Salami, biersticks and other goodies from the Dixon Street Deli. It's still there but not in its original form as a classic deli and has diminished into a cafe.

• The cheese roll from Sir Breadwin's in Lambton Quay. It was worth a drive to go and get these. Sadly the bakery has changed substantially and there's nothing quite as good there now.

Yay! Chocolate brownie.

HYPERBOLE ....

 .... is alive and well in Nuova Lazio*

I was talking to an old guy on the phone this morning while going about my morning routine and, in the space of about 5 minutes, he managed to make several massive exaggerations.

"Richard's Bass Bag is the leading blog around here..."

..... was just one of them.

Another was saying that it would take him about an hour to drive to Foxton from his home. Yeah right! It'd take him that long to get over the Waiunuiomata hill leaving a long line if disgruntled drivers in his path.

What really got to me though was his saying that he'd done the Waiunuiomata to Foxton trip - and I quote - "millions of times".

Really!

* It's really Wainuiomata - don't ask.

"THE SKY COULD HAVE BEEN STARLESS" (If Donald Trump had been re-elected)

No doubt you will have been following Donald Trump's latest fiasco - his secreting secret documents and lying about having them.

This could, at last, be the downfall of the orange fool.

Here's the latest from MSNBC and the excellent Lawrence O'Donnell that suggests that it was the absence of Trump's 'Love Letters' from the evil bastard Kim Jong-un that alerted archivists that there were still missing documents that Agent Orange had taken:

TRUMP LOVE LETTERS - MSNBC

The Love Letters song came to my mind when I was watching this. Here's Ketty Lester's version (original I think) and it was covered well by Diana Krall.

The lyrics match Trump's sick relationship with Kim quite well.

LOVE LETTERS - KETTY LESTER

The sky may be starless
The night may be moonless
But deep in my heart
There's a glow
For deep in my heart
I know that you love me
You love me, because you told me so
Love letters straight from your heart
Keep us so near while we're apart
I'm not alone in the night
When I can have all the love you write
I memorize every line
I kiss the name that you sign
And darling, then I read again
Right from the start
Love letters straight from your heart
I memorize every line
I kiss the name that you sign
And darling, then I read again
Right from the start
Love letters straight from your heart

Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Edward Heyman / Victor Young
Love Letters lyrics © Wb Music Corp.

TAKE A LETTER MISS JONES

 Things are a bit slow on the blogs this week. Richard got all strung out about something or other and Robert's been indulging in some new fantasy or other.

I guess this goes with that imaginary world of god, the Holy Trinity and the Virgin Mary that he believes in. I think that his images of searching inside a secretary looking for rose petals went to his head though.

He followed up his weirdly erotic post with one about it being OK to neglect duties and love for others as long as you claim that your love for god is more important and you don't have any spare time.

Time enough for playing around with secretaries though!

"THERE'S A HOLE IN MY BUCKET ...." *

 * You know the rest.

Yesterday I wrote a post about my purchases at The Tradie Store.

I guess that I was so excited about my purchase of overalls, knee pads and gaiters that I forgot to tell you about my visit to Mitre 10.

Unfortunately I had called in to Mitre 10 before I went to The Tradie Store so didn't have my new purchases to wear.

If I had, maybe I could have got a 'tradies' discount.

"Yeah, gidday mate. Howzabout a bit of a discount? Beaudy." 

I bought a metal bucket and a robust metal shovel and brush set for the indoor fireplaces. 

I'm very happy with these as the previous set I had were ridiculous long handled things that were more for show than practicality.

I put these stupid things in the shed which is the holding ground for the tip.

I had been using a plastic bucket for the ashes but, strangely, a hole was burned in the bottom. This definitely went to the tip on Monday.

So, how's your day going?

THE REAL THING

 COME AND SEE THE REAL THING

Today when I went to town I called into The Tradie Shop. This is the real thing for tradies - not that rubbish that The Warehouse sells. The store is packed with clothing and accessories for every job.

I'd been thinking of getting a pair of bib overalls to wear when I'm doing 'handyman' stuff around the house and property. I do have a pair of full overalls but I get a bit hot when wearing them. I used them the other day when spraying weeds and just about cooked myself.

The store had many offerings of bib overalls. I chose a modest blue pair.

Yesterday when gardening in the front of the house - ripping out massive amounts of weeds and flax and filling the trailer for a tip run (380kgs worth) I was having to kneel on the ground which gets a bit hard on the old knees after a while. This is also the case when I crawl under the house in the crawl space to fix any plumbing problems. With this in mind I also bought a set of knee protectors. These are very comfortable.

When gardening - weeding, digging, mowing the lawn and trimming trees - I wear my Muck Boots which are shorter than gumboots but much more comfortable and durable. The trouble is that these fill with dirt and debris so today I bought a set of puttees. When I asked the young salesman for puttees he looked very perplexed and said that they don't sell those. I described what I was looking for - something to stop crap getting in my boots and he said "Oh, you mean gaiters." I said that gaiters are what old bishops and clergymen wear and we had a bit of a laugh.

Robert's probably got a pair of these

I bought a set of his 'gaiters' and they do the trick. I'm good to go.

Here's a pic of me all kitted up to tackle the outdoors again tomorrow.

The Old Girl laughed which I thought was a bit rude of her.

JUST IN CASE YOU MISSED IT

 There are some good quotes in this.

RICKY GERVAIS - THOUGHTS ON RELIGION

"Religion's greatest trick wasn't convincing some people that there was a god, who was all powerful .... it was convincing everyone else that you couldn't ridicule the idea."  (Horrible when put in the context of Salman Rushdie being condemned to death and then attacked on stage.).

"There shouldn't be a word 'atheist' - there's not a word for not believing in fairies."

NEW POST - THE RELIGIOUS CURMUDGEON

 

THE FATHERS PAT AND RICH SHOW

COMETH THE HOUR, COMETH THE MAN

 

Was there a hidden plan in Robert's birthday gift to Richard?

The T-shirt, ostensibly depicting an upright violin, when investigated closer actually depicts a crucifix in a very Catholic design.

Maybe Robert is suggesting that Richard should 'take up the cloth' - no, not join him in the cleaning industry - but to join the priesthood.

The old guy has a good heart after all and has spent a lifetime of helping people - family, neighbours, friends and students. This, along with a liking of strong drink, driving like an old lady, speaking Italian and now no doubt, due to old age, adopting celibacy qualifies him for the role.

I'm not sure what the entry criteria is - whether a written or oral exam is required but, given the fact that the Catholic Church is likely struggling to find English speaking candidates, he should be a shoo-in.

Let's watch this space.

OWED TO ROBERT

 A pome by William McGonagall (deceased).

Oh Robert the bard from Moera I owe this ode to thee.

Tho' I be passed I know thou hast kept a memory of me -

In your pomes and in your heart that's stout and with no doubt -

Believeth in our blessed Lord whose greatness, not unlike our own Great Ness -

Who dwelleth in our lochs like in our hearts bring light to unbelievers.

Oh Robert, thou slayer of atheists who have no sound arguments and 

Imagine their beginnings to be imaginary, you sound out like Joshua's trumpet -

To ears that, like minds, are clos-ed.

I bow to thee great Robert and wish ye well in your verse and I curse those who -

Mock me as your mentor and you as my augmenter.

NEW POST - THE RELIGIOUS CURMUDGEON

 

HEY JOE!

THREE CHAIRS!

 You remember that a few months ago I gave away the two bar stools that we had in the kitchen?

Well, it's taken a while but today The Old Girl and I went to Harvey Norman's to buy some replacements. These:

They were just the right shape, height and comfort we were looking for and at $230 each, a good price.

When paying for them though the salesman said that they were on special at $185 each making it a whopping $135 off a price that we thought was already very acceptable.

Thank you for your interest.

AVERAGE AGE OF BLOGGERS NOW NEARLY 70

 Richard will be 70 years old this coming Saturday- the 20th. I wonder if he will blow his trumpet about it early in the morning. I don't just mean writing about it on his blog - I mean blowing his trumpet to tell the neighbours the good news.

Robert turns 67 I think this month - a few days after Richard's birthday I think.  I doubt that he'll entertain his neighbours with a bugle but might terrorise the kiddies with his Rasputin impression.

Best wishes to both of them I say. Well, I don't say that often but today will make an exception.

In today's newspaper there's a weekly horoscope that can apply to both of these old guys:

Circumstances aren't perfect, but you'll perform well with the right challenge. Resist the temptation to overcommit yourself. Take on responsibilities that comfortably fit into your life.

I guess this advice can apply to their blogging endeavours as well.

NEW POST - THE RELIGIOUS CURMUDGEON

 

MARY MARY QUITE CONTRARY

OLD FOLKS TOWN*

* The original name for Foxton before it got shortened.

Richard's off to Foxton again later this week. I hope that the weather gods are kinder to him this time.

I guess he'll be celebrating his birthday with Shelley who will take the old guy out for dinner in Palmerston North.  I hope that she takes his age into consideration when selecting a restaurant. It's probably better that he eats soft, easy to chew and mild foods - maybe take him to a milk bar cafe or a soup kitchen. Places to avoid will be Indian curry houses and  Mexican restaurants, particularly given the bathroom facilities at the 'pottery'.

FAIR GAME

We're all getting a bit older. I've slipped into the septuagenarian  bracket already and Richard and Robert are hot on my heels.

These old jokers are probably in need of a laugh about this and what better than the excellent Scottish comedy series STILL GAME?

This can be seen on Netflix but can also be found on YouTube. It's best to watch all of the nine series in chronological order to see how the various characters develop. Here's a link to one of the programmes:

STILL GAME - 'SCRAN'

I hope you watch that and enjoy.

Robert also probably needs a bit of a laugh after the devastating news on the weekend that will be rocking the Catholic Church - not in a good way.

Jesus, wasn't just a person about whom a whole lot of fanciful notions were created and written - apparently it's been discovered that he didn't exist at all. Even his existence was a fabrication made up by the church in the 4th century. See: HERE

Poor Robert. Still - there's always The Easter Bunny.

SUNDAY*

* And no fantastical religious ceremonies were taken part in like this one: HERE

Well, I've been 70 for nearly a week now and to be honest I don't feel a lot different.

The same old aches and pains are there and I'm still taking the same medication as I was back in my giddy sexagenarian days. I don't remember a lot of the sex though so maybe memory goes when you're a septuagenarian.

I don't think that I've become more grumpy even though, at 70 I'm fully entitled to be a curmudgeon. I'll have to work on that.

During the week I called into the local council offices and collected my free parking sticker for the car.

I can now park in any Whangarei City Council controlled parking areas including street parking for free. As there are only two or three Wilson-type parking areas here this is a good deal and - it's free!

I wonder if I qualify for Chance and Community Chest as well? A Get out of jail card would come in handy as well. 

I don't know if other cities have this facility for septuagenarians. If they don't, they should. We old bastards need to be encouraged to drive into city centres and terrorise the younger people with our erratic driving, ambiguous lane and turning signals, fearsome reversing and parking manoeuvres and general 'who gives a fuck - I'm old' attitude. It's a way of getting back at the abusers, ram-raiders, shoplifters and all-round bad bastards. Hey! I am becoming a fully fledged curmudgeon. Well done that man!

I didn't stay up all night to watch the rugby no matter what that soon to be septuagenarian Richard says. I went to bed and turned the light out at 11pm, having set the alarm for 2.50AM (only a bit earlier than that silly old Moearan guy who wakes daily at 4AM). The problem is though, that when I do this I never sleep properly anyway, waking up every half hour wondering if I missed the alarm Sheesh! I'm a bit tired now but pleased that I did get to watch the game live as it was one of those gripping games where either team could have won.

Today though I did play some golf as I haven't been out for a while. It's a good way to force me to do some walking to supplement the rowing and biking I do in our 'home gym'. The fairways were a bit boggy and I only played 6 holes but effectively walked 9 holes worth - not playing the ones that were the wettest and walking the dry areas instead. As it went though I lost 3 balls that 'suckered' - meaning that when they landed down the fairway they just got swallowed up and I couldn't find them. Bastard fairway. Bastard golf course. I don't like losing golf balls and when it happens I feel that the golf course owes me so I have to find some balls to get even (Neeson's Taken and  Bronson's Death Wish are favourite films). While I was walking and playing I went down to the creeks and mangroves and found about a dozen balls. I thought that was fair.

In the best Robert tradition I should tell you what I'm cooking for dinner,

The Old Girl is reheating a chick pea, lentil and spinach dish from the freezer (nicer than it sounds) for her so I have open licence to make a chilli con carne dish to my specifications. This means that I can make it as uncomfortably hot as I like and toss in non-traditional ingredients like diced carrots, spring onion and garlic. Yummy.

The more observant of the many readers will notice the unusual loquaciousness in this post. Yes, I admit that after the golf and a long hot shower (sorry - no pics), I polished off the rest of the chardonnay in the fridge which was  a glass worth of the Orlando and a biggish glass of the excellent Church Road that Richard and Shelley sent me. Getting into the 'zone' though I just opened a bottle of Delta (Marlborough) pinot noir and am mostly through the first glass. I know that I'll regret this tomorrow but - it's a Monday, I'm 70 - who are you gonna call?

THE SLIPPERS POST

 

..... asked Richard in anticipation.

Well, here it is.

We all know about slippers and some of us wear them.

Some even wear them out of doors like this guy.....

Richard shuffling off to the shops

...... but that's another story ....... that can be read HERE

I wear slippers indoors.

The more observant of you will notice something odd about these slippers.

Yes, you can see that the pair of slippers are actually two pairs of slippers combined.

How could this be?

Well, recently The Old Girl berated me for leaving some mess on the floor (not that!).

"What's this rubbish here Matey?" she asked pointing to some bits of rubber material scattered around.

It turned out that the bits were falling off the bottom of my (previously) trusty wool-skin slippers.

"They can go in the bin" she instructed and, for once I tended to agree.

Before I threw them out though I searched for a replacement pair and remembered the cheap ones I'd bought in Wellington a couple of years ago when The Old Girl had a flat in Wellington for a year. The floors were wooden so it necessitated wearing soft footwear so as to not disturb the neighbours below - which never occurred to the ignorant arseholes who lived up stairs who strode about in high-heeled shoes, clogs, cowboy boots and what sounded like bloody horseshoes at times. Sheesh! Anyway, I bought  a pair of soft blue slippers from The Warehouse in Petone one Saturday afternoon on the way to visit Richard and Robert at a pub. This is the pub that Robert complained about as being expensive and elitist as he, I guess preferred the cheap and proletarian one closer to Moera where the only washing the glasses get is when the barman spits in them.

The Warehouse slippers were cheap and, as you'd expect, went way out of shape after a few times of wearing them and became so loose that they were unwearable.

Waiting for a Yeti

I was left then with one pair that were unwearable because they were dropping bits off and the other that were unwearable because they were too big,

In a flash of inspiration I decided to fit the wool-skin ones inside The Warehouse ones and .... bingo!

Robert's your father's brother.

The Old Girl still thinks that I look like a clown though.

Thank you for your time and patience.

DEALING WITH 'NAUGHTY' BEHAVIOUR

 WTF!

The defence lawyer for the nasty robber who, armed with a knife attacked a service station manager in a robbery attempt, used the excuse that Turia (the robber) suffered from privilege as well as under-privilege that led to his actions. 

Talk about having a bob each way.

HOME DETENTION FOR KNIFE WIELDING ROBBER

Waugh, the lawyer told the court Turia was on the cusp of two different worlds before his birth, one of systemic deprivation and one of privilege which led to him being told he wasn't a real Māori.

Fuck!

The judge listened to all this nonsense and the submissions from Turia's influential relatives before sentencing him to home detention.

The method of getting to the 10 months home detention sentence is laughable:

"Judge Edwards began with a sentence starting point of four years' imprisonment but after discounts for his early guilty plea, genuine remorse, and previous good character it was reduced to 20 months' imprisonment.

Because the sentence was below the two-year threshold making it eligible for home detention, Turia was ultimately given a 10-month home detention sentence."

If the judge had carried on any further she'd be saying that the Crown owes Turia a couple of years of false imprisonment and suggested that he gets paid compensation. 

Ridiculous.

RUNNING ON EMPTY

 RUNNING ON EMPTY - JACKSON BROWNE

I went to the blood clinic for some tests yesterday. The woman who first stuck a needle in my left arm had no problem except for the fact that no blood came out into the tube.

"I'm empty" I said which cracked her up.

She went to get a supervisor who also had the same problem.

"It's the same with stones" I said and she smiled although I then worried about what she'd do with the needle. She had a go at my right arm, finding a vein, inserting the needle and, sure enough blood came out and filled the tube. Job done.

Why would blood come out of my right arm and not my left one though?

Is this some sort of political statement - or religious?

THE BLOOD DONOR

NOT JUST A TALL POPPY

 It looks like Sam Uffendill's past is catching up with him.

Who'd have thought that a school and university bully would finally get bullied himself - this time by the media, past victims and the general public.? Boo hoo.

Uffendill's ego is so great that he thought he'd be able to run for the highest office in the land and that the people he stepped over on the way up, wouldn't remember.

ON YOUR WAY DOWN - LITTLE FEAT

Well, he's been given a wake up call.

Well it's high time (backing vocals)
That you find
The same people that you must use on your way up
You might meet up (pause) on your way down

 

OLD RAGE

There's probably nothing sillier than a young curmudgeon.

Too young and it's just a spoilt brat throwing a tantrum, and any age through to late middle age is just sulky miserableness.

Now that I've turned 70 I feel that I've earned the right to complain about things that annoy me and can compare modern things unfavourably to the undeniably better things of the past.

That is of course if I can last the distance for a few more years.

Robert wants to kibosh that as in a comment on my last post he said (under the name of Bob):

Talk about being a jinx or a storm crow .

There are many things now that annoy me and no doubt there'll be a hell of a lot more to come.

Just today I can think of:

• Gangs of teenagers and younger kids ram-raiding shops and stealing things of lesser value than the stolen vehicles they destroy and the premises they damage. The long term outcome for this will be boarded up premises creating a siege-like mentality in the community.

• Conspiracy theorists and Covid deniers refusing to get vaccinated or boosted and not wearing masks in public shops and facilities.

• Irresponsible dog owners resisting licensing their 'pets' and allowing them to wander and attack people and smaller pets.

• Christopher Luxon and the useless bunch of acolytes he's trying to gather around him who are proving to be an embarrassment - like Sam Uffindell.

• Bikie gangs terrorising people and seemingly getting away with it.

• The fact that there is so much gun-crime in this country when we were supposed to be removing unlicensed, unwanted and unnecessary firearms and tightening up regulations.

• Brian Tamaki's use of his Destiny Church as a future political platform taking along the dupes who tithe and buy into his nonsense.

Sam Uffindell: "Follow me boss, the exit's this way."

Yes, there won't be a shortage of things for me to rant over I'm pleased to say.

Stay tuned.

SHADES OF GREY

Mike wished me a happy birthday today. He was surprised to learn that I turned 70, believing that I was a young and sprightly sixty-nine year old. We laughed about that until I told him that Richard will be turning 70 in 12 days time. He stopped laughing. He didn't believe me.

I assured him that Richard indeed is an old fucker, nearly as old as me. He said " but.... but .... but.... look at him (Richard). The man doesn't have a grey hair on his head and in fact has the head of a 20 year old."

"Tell him to give it back" I said -- more laughing, and this was before The Old Girl poured me a glass of the Veuve Cliquot Champagne that she was opening.

We discussed the fact that Mike is becoming very grey, that I've lost most of my hair and what remains is grey almost white, that Tony turned white years ago and that Richard's brothers are various shades of grey .*

I suggested that he might have been having monkey gland implants.

MONKEY GLANDS

* There aren't 50 of them

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY*

 *Tomorrow but we had my birthday tea last night.

"What do you want for your birthday tea?" asked The Old Girl a few days ago.

Normally I say "Schnitzel and roast potatoes" but this time wanted something different so I asked for lasagne.

I love lasagne but we do't have it much as it's a fankle to make and requires lots of fresh ingredients. I knew that The Old Girl would be able to visit a fancy Auckland supermarket on her way home on Friday though and sure enough she bought fresh pasta sheets, lamb mince and all of the other ingredients required. I'd also asked for a 'Napoleon-type'  dessert and she bought the pastry and custard making ingredients for that too.

We preceded this with a bottle of Bollinger Rose.

Yummy.

NEW POST - THE WINE GUY

 

BLAST FROM THE PAST

DOING THINGS BY HALF

 

Sheesh!

To do (something) by halves:

To do something half-heartedly or only partially.

I don't know what it's like in the rest of the country these days but up here tradesmen seem to be on 'island time'.

To begin with it's hard to get one to do a job whether it's plumbing, building or electrical work. Then trying to tie them down to a start date takes a lot of time and negotiation. Lastly, once they are on the job, keeping them at it when the sun is shining and the fish are biting is damn near impossible.

No matter what the job, after it's (almost) completed there will be some extra things that need finishing off, tidied up or even re-done. Good luck with getting the guy back.

Over the last year we've had some major plumbing done, significant building alterations, landscape gardening and fencing and some electrical maintenance. In each of these cases there's some follow-up work necessary. To date none of this has been done. We've had promises that became arrangements which in turn have been cancelled due to Covid, bad weather or the tradesman has simply forgotten.

A couple of weeks ago the major storms we've had caused a leak in the pelmet above the newly installed french doors in the bedroom. The builder was supposed to return to finish off the outside flashing but for numerous reasons the job has been put off. This time, when I called him it turns out that he's isolating with a form of Covid. Bummer. We'll just have to see if he turns up after that and that we don't get any more heavy rainstorms.

The garden landscapers did a good job with the front garden and installing the new wooden retaining wall but were supposed to return to finish laying bark and to re-fill the area with a big pile of dirt that they had temporarily removed and put at the top of the drive. This has been next to a big pile of bark and another of mulch that has gradually spread out a bit over the last few months. Robert's god only knows where the landscapers have got to - no, I know - Covid, other jobs, bad weather and, I guess, they've forgotten.

Today, as we've been having such a good day I decided to: remove the pile of soil and rocks and relocate it to the front garden; rake up and shovel into tidy piles the bark and mulch; cover these with tarpaulins and anchor them down with bricks; remove a whole row of agapanthus along the driveway that's been annoying me. Admittedly the agapanthus weren't the landscapers' problem. This exercise took about 20 barrow loads and 3 hours. I'm now buggered.