Great day!
Years ago, I set this as the sounds to wake up to: Thunderbirds opening sequence.
Man, you really wake up when the first sound is FIVE!
And then the countdown. It really gets the blood pumping
And then the preview with the rising drama and excitement.
And then the Earth Anthem!
I’d jump out of bed full of the thrill of being alive.
My god!, I’d exclaim, I’m going to have a fucking awesome day. I’ve just seen the preview!
My wife, naturally, was less thrilled with this start to the day
8 April 2020
There is an ironclad law that middle aged men who have not been to any fencing practice for a few months should not attempt to jog with a greyhound.
But first, this premature and self-congratulatory message to keep your spirits up.
Aidan spent a good proportion of the day in the kitchen. That entailed washing the dishes over and over again as a new batch of ever multiplying cups materialised as if by magic as soon as you are finished. He then went on to cook Lasagna, which blew my mind. I had expected something else, something with fewer steps, at least. And it was bloody good.
I put the seedlings into the straw bales. Now comes the tense part over the next few days to see if the poor little buggers can survive and prosper under these experimental conditions.
We played King Me (BGG lists it as the reprint name of King Up!) around the table after dinner. Despite the incredibly simple rules it takes a bit to get your head around what are the meaningful strategies. After a bold start Gabrielle crapped out, and Aidan surged ahead to a spectacular win with Zach and I trailing. If only real world elections went that smoothly. And if only you got to execute the failed contenders – that’d clean up the politician gene pool.
I am also at a loss to understand why this would not publish as expected. Internet is up. Connection speed is unusually good. Is WordPress having server troubles with all the shut-ins bleating about their exciting little lives 🙂
29 March 2020
Beautiful warm morning. We walked and Harry only barked his pea-brain out once.
People say that it’s hard to get their sons (particularly) to help around the place. I say nothing could be further from the truth. All you have to do is start when they are little and inculcate in them a sense of guilt and shame, and that way 20 years later when you really want them to help CLEAN UP THIS GARDEN SO WE CAN PLANT VEGETABLES TO SURVIVE THE APOCALYPSE, all you have to do is tantrum and then sulk. Eventually they slouch out and do a good job.
News from today can be found here.
Our backyard is now clear, with good sunlight, and even Gabrielle who was opposed to my hack it back policy agrees that there appears to be so much more room. All that remains now is for the straw bales to arrive. I’m not sure but I deeply suspect that we may be too late for this seasons’ vegetables to go in because the straw will need to decompose a bit first. But the sooner we start the sooner it will be ready for the next season.
I attempted to go to Bunnings again as I needed some strong garden twine. Rumours circulated that they were already closed. When I arrived there was a long widely spaced queue to get in. I did not queue. No twine for me.
Harry has an irritated spot on his leg and has licked it raw. No bitter spray or numbing ointment will deter him from his attention. So he has the collar of shame, poor bugger. His misery is matched by the world. Though not by President Stupid (when the only tool is a wall, every problem looks like a border) whose whose suggested solution was a themed LARP of Escape from New York.
Trains stopped
Trams full to suffocation level. Got as far as this bar and now have decided to drink out the congestion. Can’t last forever, right?
.jpg "Volkstheater (Vienna People's Theatre)
Copyright www.earthinpictures.com")
.jpg "Berliner Dom (Berlin Cathedral)
Copyright www.earthinpictures.com")
.jpg "Holocaust Memorial (Holocaust Mahnmal)
Copyright www.earthinpictures.com")
ANBoswell 