The familiar Tuesday morning rush of a routine: the 7am work shift for me, whilst Anna buggers off to South London.
If you can’t beat ’em…
Thursday can’t come quick enough, Comrades.
There was no opportunity for a swim on Tuesday. It was all about Operation Boiler Bodge.
The old boiler [steady] packed up last night.
That’s not quite true. It got a little confused, and decided to heat up the radiators, rather than the hot water.
Mr Google told me that this is probably a dodgy diverter.
I waited for Mr Boiler Man to arrive mid-morning. He confirmed with Mr Google.
The double whammy was a little local National Insurance issue for me.
Ouch.
OUCH OUCH actually.
The Brexit shit over luncheon was just too much for me. I buried my head with some Gang of Four.
A little more work, and then the estuary wilds sun was just too strong to resist.
I took a stroll along Ferry Marsh, and then back up along the Quay.
It was STUNNING.
What use to take fifteen minutes to walk is now taking an hour. I am seeing nature shit that had previously passed me by.
Some more work, some more photo unarchiving.
My photo archive of an SE17 school going back more than a decade is now starting to rival my Dulwich Hamlet collection.
I had some FaceTime with Anna later in the evening. She gave me a guided tour of what the decorators have been up to back in the South Lambeth Road flat.
I could also smell the paint coming through my iPhone.
I rather enjoyed the Lincoln Vs Ipswich FA Cup match.
Oh - the kittens have been incredibly fussy of late over their food. They are still eating dry food, but picking on the wet stuff.
We suspect that someone else is giving them their fill elsewhere in the neighbourhood.
#lolcats etc.
Kittens and wisteria. #lolcats ha bloody ha pic.twitter.com/sTRAkbryjr
— Jason_Cobb (@Jason_Cobb) January 17, 2017