…And the Postman shall Come Bearing Gifts…

In an effort to nourish my poor weeping soul I have taken to accepting gifts from the postman which is a result of spending a freaking fortune on furniture and ephemera to fill our house. We’ve bought a new coat and shoe rack, we’ve got a massive wardrobe coming on Friday for my daughter’s room, which will be my weekend ruined as I struggle and grapple with the flat pack torture sent by a dark eyed DPD delivery man, the dark lord, Satan of the delivery drivers bringing disquiet and tension to an otherwise relatively mellow abode. If only the weather would just stop and be nice for a minute. 

And where’s my telescope, thats what I want to know, theres stars and a moon which need to be looked at and women on top of hills in t-shirts which according to the advertising video I will be able to see clearly from about 2.4 miles! Thats some boast and for all I know there could be legions of women in t-shirts on the hilly horizon out side my bedroom window. But I need a telescope to tell, hopefully it will come shortly along with a deluge of records and tapes and tables and chairs and maybe a smart telly for the kitchen. Never had one of those, and so this will be a new experience for all of us.

The carpenter who is to build my record storage kingdom has reduced his quote by a third! A third for fuck sake, he’s an acquaintance too, met him at climbing years ago and foolishly climbed with hime a few times, he’s good and I was not, ended up giving myself climbers elbow for about a year rendering my climbing career short lived as I could barely lift a kettle, ah those halcyon days of harnesses and ropes and pints afterwards. Maybe i’ll start again when this is all over and the Aged roam the Earth like sex starved teenagers, the generation of which have only seen sex on porn hub these last 11 months. And in the age of Microsoft Teams schooling I doubt if masturbation is classed as Physical education., but I suspect it is included in the curriculum.

I took my son outside today and we kicked a ball around our underpopulated close and played Wallie, the strategic game of kicking a ball against a wall between 2 limits, I won 10-9, it was fun. But I think in the next 3 weeks or so there’s 3 houses being moved into in the corner that we inhabit, and at the moment the child count is negligible, seems this is an estate where grown ups come to live without their children, some sort of swingers cul-de-sac. So I’d best get some pampass grasses in and make myself Close presentable for the spring time, as the OAPs run around in and out of each others houses with gay and straight abandon. 

Night playmates.

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