Sunday, 28 March 2010

Jack Hughes

- but he's innocent.

They've mended Bloglines on Firefox, though not on Safari, so at least (once I'd remembered my password) I can read blogs again.  I've deleted all the funny website posts that I waste my time on when I've got some spare, so I've now got fewer than 600 posts to read.  And some of those are duplicated in Reader.  I'll be up to date in no time.

Anyway, I suggested to the Sage that he had purloined the tray that I usually use to carry the dinner dishes through, and mentioned it again a few days later.  Last night, he found it where I'd put it.  I'm a bit abashed.

Tilly added to her disgrace yesterday evening.  I was in the laundry room, taking stuff out of the washing machine and putting more stuff in, and she came to see me.  I turned to say hello just in time to see her squat and start to widdle all over the floor.  I squealed helplessly because she has reached the stage in life where, once she starts, she can't stop.  The Sage came hurrying through and then went to find kitchen paper - I hastily threw a newly-washed (dog-drying) towel down to mop it up before it soaked into the floorboards.

After we'd cleared up, I said to the Sage "There's no point in being cross with her, she can't help it."  He agreed.  "Who knows?" I added, "One day, one of us might have to clean up after the other."  "Hm," he agreed again, with an obvious subtext of "not bloody likely."  Anyway, now, every time Tilly wakes up and gets off the sofa, she gets put outside before leaving our sight in the house.

I do say "anyway" a lot.  Heh.

I cycled into town for the first time (even driving has been a bit hard on the joints so I have been cautious).  It was boring.  Less boring than walking, largely because it took much less time, but there was no feeling of hearty good-humour at getting some healthy exercise.  But the abductor muscle didn't hurt going up the hill the way it did do, which is something.  I'll soon get used to it again.

Some time later -  oh, I know there was something I meant to tell you.  Yesterday, I found a death watch beetle sitting on the newspaper.  Today, I heard another clicking away hopefully somewhere in the wall. Spring really has arrived.  Damn.

8 comments:

mago said...

Wuah, die Totenuhr! Three crosses!

Z said...

The dead clock, indeed, Mago. What a fabulous video. Took ages to load (we don't exactly have a high-speed connection around here) but worth it,

Dave said...

This post caused me to check something with Mr Google. As one does I got sidetracked, but learned that 'The death watch beetle appears in a nativity song in which the innkeeper complains repeatedly that "there's death watch beetle in the roof."'

That's a hymn I do not know. However, I want to.

Z said...

That certainly sounds a catchy little number, Dave. I do hope you'll find it and teach it to me. It sounds like something Stanley Holloway might have sung - "there's death watch beetle in the roof"' to the tune of "with 'er 'ead tucked underneath 'er arm."

Roses said...

It definitely feels like Spring has sprung.

So good to hear you're able to cycle without any grinding or pain.

Go girl!

Pat said...

"One day, one of us might have to clean up after the other." "Hm," he agreed again, with an obvious subtext of "not bloody likely."
Does that mean he will allow you to clear up after him but he won't retaliate? Bes to get these things sorted sooner rather than later.

Christopher said...

Ah. Big relief. I thought you were going to tell us your death watch beetles were incontinent too.

Z said...

I think his reaction was simply "that ain't happening" - to either of us, that is. After the way he's looked after me (he was even gearing himself up to cut my toenails, but fortunately, by the time that was necessary, I could do them myself) I'd never suggest there was anything he's unwilling to do for me.

I don't think the newspaper was for absorption purposes. Christopher.