the power struggle, inter alia
As is so often the case, I work hard to catch up to the proper day, and then when I’ve made it, as yesterday, I suffer a relapse. A strange old day, with a fair amount of footslogging, and probably unnecessary spending, for which I’ll blame Sarah.
Don’t know if I mentioned that I lost my pedo a couple of days ago, at a pub naturellement, and have felt a blank powerlessness since, but Sarah has loaned me hers, which goes like a rocket, so I can graph my progress anew, and be encouraged without exerting much effort. Did about 11500 today. And will branch out into regularly graphed sit ups.
Made a vow to get on top of Sarah’s garden before Christmas Eve, when she’s having a do. Lawn-mowing, whipper-snipping, weeding, digging over, mulching and pruning required, on quite a scale.
The Luna housing situation continues to change complexion. Corey has decided to stay put, meaning that Browning Street will be offered to James first. Also means that Sarah will not be able to take Corey’s place, and she has just been in here in tears about that, feeling unable to cope with the present circs, which is a worry as there’s nothing clearly in the offing La Lunawise. She’s looked into getting some home help from the council, but their policy, get this, is that they only offer such help to people who own their own homes, for otherwise, in cleaning the house and tidying the garden, they’re actually helping the landlord(!!?). Seems a minor consid, when folk are unable to bend over without assistance. But hey those folks aren’t ratepayers, why should they get a free ride? Uhh maybe because the landlords pay their rates with the tenants’ rents.
It’s been raining intermittently all day and there’s a forecast for much the same all week, so the focus on gardening is blurred by intervening water molecules. Spent an absolute fucking age trying to wind nylon cutting wire onto a B & D whipper-snipper spool and to thread said wire into the eyelets without having the whole shaboong unravel and entangle into a purple scribble. Glad I don’t have to work with DNA.
Yesterday, foodwise, I sliced blade steak into Chinese bite sizes, and stir-fried garlic, capsicum, pumpkin, and a little bit of garden zucchini, as well as the meat, in a wok with peanut oil. I added some oyster sauce and a butter chicken sauce, presumably bought in the days of Ben. Continue to do without butter, with difficulty. I should keep more supplies of cream cheese, to compensate, but I’m not being very efficient. Rest of the day, can’t recall what I ate, though muesli’s certain.
Don’t know if I mentioned that I lost my pedo a couple of days ago, at a pub naturellement, and have felt a blank powerlessness since, but Sarah has loaned me hers, which goes like a rocket, so I can graph my progress anew, and be encouraged without exerting much effort. Did about 11500 today. And will branch out into regularly graphed sit ups.
Made a vow to get on top of Sarah’s garden before Christmas Eve, when she’s having a do. Lawn-mowing, whipper-snipping, weeding, digging over, mulching and pruning required, on quite a scale.
The Luna housing situation continues to change complexion. Corey has decided to stay put, meaning that Browning Street will be offered to James first. Also means that Sarah will not be able to take Corey’s place, and she has just been in here in tears about that, feeling unable to cope with the present circs, which is a worry as there’s nothing clearly in the offing La Lunawise. She’s looked into getting some home help from the council, but their policy, get this, is that they only offer such help to people who own their own homes, for otherwise, in cleaning the house and tidying the garden, they’re actually helping the landlord(!!?). Seems a minor consid, when folk are unable to bend over without assistance. But hey those folks aren’t ratepayers, why should they get a free ride? Uhh maybe because the landlords pay their rates with the tenants’ rents.
It’s been raining intermittently all day and there’s a forecast for much the same all week, so the focus on gardening is blurred by intervening water molecules. Spent an absolute fucking age trying to wind nylon cutting wire onto a B & D whipper-snipper spool and to thread said wire into the eyelets without having the whole shaboong unravel and entangle into a purple scribble. Glad I don’t have to work with DNA.
Yesterday, foodwise, I sliced blade steak into Chinese bite sizes, and stir-fried garlic, capsicum, pumpkin, and a little bit of garden zucchini, as well as the meat, in a wok with peanut oil. I added some oyster sauce and a butter chicken sauce, presumably bought in the days of Ben. Continue to do without butter, with difficulty. I should keep more supplies of cream cheese, to compensate, but I’m not being very efficient. Rest of the day, can’t recall what I ate, though muesli’s certain.
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