So I'm at the hardware emporium, buying coal at three for the price of two. This means I have to buy nine ten kilogram sacks, which is about as much that fits in the boot of my car.
At the till, I was behind a man of similar age to myself, who was buying eight rolls of light and fluffy insulation.
I felt extremely smug that I loaded my 90kg of coal into the car in less time than it took him to faff around with his thermo fluff. AND I was behind him in the queue so he had a headstart. (All that time in the gym must be paying off at last). I was flinging the sacks around with abandon. I worry a little that my bargain £200 car has slightly dodgy suspension, and the coal takes its toll on the bushes (getting technical here, but I am sure that's what the garage man said was next to die).
When I got home, my neighbour was standing on his doorstep, looking very dapper as he does, and announced that he and his housemate were going out shortly. This was my cue to zap the stereo on very loudly, with my favourite dancy tracks and continue my exercise by energetically bouncing around in front of the fire, throwing great shapes.
The good thing about having a £200 car is that it is virtually disposable. You don't have to bother locking it, as no one in their right mind would steal it. Everyone gets out of my way when the two lanes reduce to one, as there are significant dents in the bodywork that other drivers find alarming, for some reason. I also know that if it breaks down there will be no repair bills, I can just dump it. I've already travelled around 3000 miles in it, so it has been very good value indeed.
To blow away the January blues, I have started going to an archaeology class on Monday evenings. The teacher is excellent, and it happens to be focusing on my favourite part of the world - the western isles of Scotland. I need something to make up for the lack of Iron Age opportunities during the winter months. It is strange how you can miss sitting in a roundhouse. Who would have thought?
More worryingly, I have a slight sensation of itchy feet. The prospect of going up the Amazon on a hospital boat is beckoning. I'm fighting this off boldly. Can I really face the prospect of the anti malarial tablets/mosquitos/ferocious wildlife/creepy crawlies and crocodiles again? Not sure. The jury is still out. At least the Amazon would only be for two - three weeks so I wouldn't have to pack the house up again.
I'll keep you posted!
At the till, I was behind a man of similar age to myself, who was buying eight rolls of light and fluffy insulation.
I felt extremely smug that I loaded my 90kg of coal into the car in less time than it took him to faff around with his thermo fluff. AND I was behind him in the queue so he had a headstart. (All that time in the gym must be paying off at last). I was flinging the sacks around with abandon. I worry a little that my bargain £200 car has slightly dodgy suspension, and the coal takes its toll on the bushes (getting technical here, but I am sure that's what the garage man said was next to die).
When I got home, my neighbour was standing on his doorstep, looking very dapper as he does, and announced that he and his housemate were going out shortly. This was my cue to zap the stereo on very loudly, with my favourite dancy tracks and continue my exercise by energetically bouncing around in front of the fire, throwing great shapes.
The good thing about having a £200 car is that it is virtually disposable. You don't have to bother locking it, as no one in their right mind would steal it. Everyone gets out of my way when the two lanes reduce to one, as there are significant dents in the bodywork that other drivers find alarming, for some reason. I also know that if it breaks down there will be no repair bills, I can just dump it. I've already travelled around 3000 miles in it, so it has been very good value indeed.
To blow away the January blues, I have started going to an archaeology class on Monday evenings. The teacher is excellent, and it happens to be focusing on my favourite part of the world - the western isles of Scotland. I need something to make up for the lack of Iron Age opportunities during the winter months. It is strange how you can miss sitting in a roundhouse. Who would have thought?
More worryingly, I have a slight sensation of itchy feet. The prospect of going up the Amazon on a hospital boat is beckoning. I'm fighting this off boldly. Can I really face the prospect of the anti malarial tablets/mosquitos/ferocious wildlife/creepy crawlies and crocodiles again? Not sure. The jury is still out. At least the Amazon would only be for two - three weeks so I wouldn't have to pack the house up again.
I'll keep you posted!
