Yackety yak

Honey, can youse take out the trash?

Yackety yak

I even sorted my crap: plastic with plastic, paper with paper, oozing sticky fluids with noxious defrosting fish.

Three carloads up and down the drive and it was done.

A little bit of Al Green, then I’m done too.


The packers arrived at 8:00 and I had to tell them to wait. We still had no quote for the shipment and therefore had no idea of the cost. Imagine … we write them a blank cheque, they take all our stuff and hold it as ransom until we pay whatever they ask!

The quote arrived just before noon, but I had already let the packers start, after a tense moment with their boss on the phone. He said it was a done deal (“I promise, I promise!”), which was enough for the moment.

They’re now working extremely fast and I’m having a hard time keeping up with them … defrosting the freezer, washing last dishes and clothes, separating toys and other stuff going to the Netherlands, the rest to Kingston.

I still plan to drive north on Wednesday morning, 1688 km, according to my Michelin online route planner – a brilliant service, btw.

Wish me luck!

Girl-on-girl housework

There’s an ad campaign in Italy at the moment for endermology treatment that looks as if you iron away your cellulite.

I like the picture because I can imagine it embodies a doubly erotic fantasy for many men.
Girl-on-girl housework
I love the levitating table, but close up, the endermologicky machine looks scary.

Exterminate! Exterminate!

Exterminate! Exterminate!

Life’s too short to stuff a mushroom

Shirley Conran’s epigraph to Superwoman is as true today as it was 30 years ago. Here’s the high and low points of my day.

Woken by small boy. Freddo, mama. I’m bibbering. Stripped him off and showered him down. Stripped bed and loaded wash #1. Dressed both kids. Made their breakfast. Made their school lunch. Brought tea to Mr B. Hung up wash #1. Put in wash #2. Saw kids and Mr B off to school. Take out wash #2. Set wash #3 on timer.
Go to bank. Queue for 20 minutes at the “rush counter” (sic). Withdraw 800 Euros.
Go to post office. Queue for 30 minutes. Pay utility bills totalling 799 Euros. “Result happiness”, said Mr Micawber.
Pick up kids. Shiver in playground then go home.
Cook, put away washes #1 and #2, hang up wash #3, have dinner, bathe kids, put kids to bed, clean kitchen, empty and reload dishwasher.
Set up wireless home network with no manual.
To bed, having reconfigured both desktop and laptop to the point where neither computer will acknowledge the other nor connect to the Internet.
Toss and turn, tormented by dreams of being automatically assigned a stable IP address in my neighbourhood network but being chased by an ad hoc set up with a default SSID.

I’d rather stuff a mushroom…