2012 — 3 February: Friday
This morning's email1 tells me I still have a small, but worthwhile, credit towards my total estimated fuel bill for the whole year of a little under £1400. Where's that extra-thick pullover, Mrs Landingham? (Actually, I gave in and shut the little window down here in the living room [leaving only the permanent vent for the 'plasma' gas fire] so it's a toasty 18.1C inside and a seriously cool -6.5C on the front porch.)
According to the BBC there's some snow heading this way. Deep joy. But tea helps. As does the new Leonard Cohen album. Actually, I also got the Easy Star All-stars 'dub' version of Radiohead's "OK Computer". These are the same chaps who did the reggae version of Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon". All rather excellent.
Do I top up the salt level in the water softener before, or after, breakfast? Decisions, decisions.
Just in case...
... Ragnarok cuts loose and the wolves descend from the hills, I've been out on a supplies run. My, it's crowded out there. And cold. I've actually put the car back into the garage, neatly deferring the question of whether or not I nip out later to see dear Mama. It's 11:22, the sun is bright, and the barometer is high. Two of my premature daffodils have succumbed to the severe frost, foolish plants. Don't they know it's winter?
I see my local MP has resigned as a minister ahead of the court case. Eastleigh has had a somewhat chequered history of MPs during my 30-year stretch here as a voter. Here's what I wrote to dear Mama a while back about an earlier one:
Christa keeps threatening to put grass seed down on the site of the late unlamented Pampas grass patch, but has yet to do so. She's probably too busy picking off all the blackfly. Speaking peripherally of which, we met our new MP last Friday. Seems the Eastleigh Chamber of Commerce has a regular monthly Friday lunchtime get-together, so Christa asked me along as the guest speaker was the newly re-elected Mr Chidgey (Lib Dem). Cor blimey, what a waffler! Let's just say he's got the easiest £43,000 a year plus expenses for the next five years that I've ever seen. No responsibility, no accountability, and endless free lunches at which he probably reads from the same set of generic notes each time. In the words of Yosser Hughes from Boys from the Blackstuff: 'I could do that.'
Brrr!
Even with the living room window closed it's still a not very balmy 19.2C at 19:54 but the recent curry has helped. Mike and I have agreed our next walk tomorrow morning on what looks like being the least worst weather day. I shall delay my next crockpottery magic until Monday. Uncle ERNIE has chipped in with another £25. I listened to the latest round of Kermode and Mayo's film review programme. I also declined Brian's invitation over to see a new Woody Allen at the local film club, but only because it strikes me as too damned cold to go gallivanting around at the moment.
What's next, Mrs Landingham? Time to do the dishes and fix me up another cuppa.