It's another cold day up north. Today, Saturday it's less than 10 degrees out. Yesterday it started off at 4 degrees so - mustn't grumble.
In the later morning, after it warmed up a bit I spend another few hours under the house digging. I'm making progress and the guards haven't discovered me yet. The next step will be to buy a few bags of crushed stone and spread out over the excavations I've made. These are basically deeper crawl spaces to enable better access to the plumbing. Once completed I'll organise for the plumber to come to replace the remainder of the nasty Dux Quest piping that randomly leaks. This will give me peace of mind.
Talking of crawl space, the other night I watched a Netflix film Crawl Space. This was about a plumber doing some repairs under a house when some bad guys looking for money murdered the house-owner upstairs not being aware that the plumber was below, beneath the floorboards. When they searched for stolen money they discovered the plumber in the crawl space. He barricaded himself in doing a MacGyver act by fashioning a gun from his plumbing supples, drilling up through the floorboards and one of the bad guy's foot - you know, stuff like that.
Naturally I fantasised about this yesterday rather than The Great Escape.
Afterwards as it was a nice sunny day I went for a long walk. I might do the same again today.
Why am I telling you this? Well, that old guy down south who plays with himself seems to be concerned that I haven't been keeping readers up to date about my activities:
"There is quiet now. Voices from somewhere down the corridor. A nurse speaks in a heavy Indian accent, her words indecipherable at this distance.
I think of a conversation with RBB."
-Rob Carey
Yes, I think of conversations with Richard when I hear indecipherable language and noisy washing machines as well.
1 comment:
Yes, that's a post.
Well done, old Curmudgeons.
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