Heart attack

Monday, July 11, 2022

Wheels Came Off The Bus

Saturday. 7.30 a.m. So, the wheels did actually come off the bus with Boris Johnson's resignation. The big question I have is, did he jump, or was he pushed? I think he was totally deluded if he thought he could remain as Prime Minister, considering what has been going on regarding 'so-called' 'Partygate' and the goings-on regarding Chris Pincher (I won't go into details on THAT.) 

This morning I have now moved the unit which had my microwave on it into the lounge. A bit of effort was required to do this, rather like a big game of Tetris. One thing moves, another thing goes into the space created, and then another bit of furniture is moved in. It has taken a considerable amount of thought and effort to achieve this. A bit like when I worked in stage management, working out how scene changes would be achieved, and often in a very short space of time. The problem is, now there's more furniture than the room can really take. It's going to be a bit of a squeeze, which is something of an exaggeration, but I will have to cope until the work in the kitchen is completed. 

12.50 p.m. I now have china and other kitchen items stored in the unit, which I moved from the kitchen (it was opposite the oven. I was hoping I might have got a new unit in that space, and, as there are what must have been screw holes in the wall above, I assume at one time there was a wall unit, but unfortunately I won't get this, as they are only replacing 'old for new.' Shame, but it's just as well I have this unit, which came from Amazon. 

I went into the main Milton Keynes shopping centre around 9.30. I just needed a break from the flat and all the shifting of stuff. I had intended to buy a magazine I have had on occasion, called 'Current Archaeology.' But W.H.Smith, from where I have managed to buy it before, have seen fit to rearrange their magazine section and the magazine doesn't appear to be there. Just very annoying. I think it might be worthwhile having a subscription and, as a result, having each monthly edition delivered, the same way I have two other magazines, 'BBC History Magazine' and 'History Today'.

The mention of those two magazines makes me think about how they are delivered, by the Royal Mail. But there is a slight problem. Well, not actually a problem. You may recall all the flats within Dexter House had their front doors replaced. But the letter box in each of these doors has a flap inside, a sort of curved metal buffer if you like (I can't think of a better way to describe it.) It may be fine if ordinary letters are inserted through the letter box, but with this metal contraption, anything larger, for example, a magazine, will get mangled. Not such a clever device. Meant, one supposes, to prevent smoke from getting into the flat should there be a fire. But nobody tested these things to find out how they would prevent larger items from being put through the letter box. 

Sunday. 5.30 a.m. Another warm and still morning. 

12.35 p.m. I didn't go to church this morning, but watched the service online, via Facebook. 

Currently, the temperature, according to my digital thermometer, is 82ºF. Just quietly roasting, but does it matter? Seems not. I have attempted to get this reduced, but no one will listen. Crazy.

5.00 p.m. Alfie has been for a second visit to the family who is, hopefully, going to look after him when I go to visit Worcester. He seems to be settling down and enjoying being with them. We will have one more session and then let's see what happens next.

Monday. 6.45 a.m. So, this is it! All the waiting, all the frustration, the screaming, the shouting, the stamping of little feet. What am I referring to? Why, of course, the runners and riders in the race to select the replacement for Prime Minister and leader of the Conservative Party after the resignation of Boris Johnson. It makes me laugh when you see the two-faced behaviour of these MPs, one minute, all smiles and patting each other on the back, and, no sooner as any of them come forward as candidates, they're stabbing each other in the back (metaphorically, of course!) Rather like something out of a Shakespeare drama, such as 'Julius Caesar.' More like the television series (which I worked on, the BBC version, that is.) 'House of Cards.'

The last of the things have been moved out of the kitchen, and here I am, ready for the workmen to arrive to refurbish my kitchen. It's a bit of a squeeze in my lounge, with more than enough extra bits of furniture, but if it means I get a new, improved kitchen, then I don't mind.

8.25 a.m. Two workmen have come to start breaking up the units in the kitchen. I am going to have a temporary sink so at least I can wash up and make a cup of tea. Temporary that is, until the brand, spanking new sink unit is installed. (Intend to post each step of the journey from old to new kitchen on here. I am photographing it as well.)

No comments: