Gin at Noon

Well, it sounds so much more acceptable and ... poetic ... than gin at 10:33 a.m, don't you think ? I've been helping someone out this week, doing some cleaning in their house, and had everything done by yesterday. It also involved having the carpets cleaned professionally. The chap did a great job, the carpets look almost new again.

Do you sense it? The forboding?

Can you see it ? Yes, that is the silhouette of trouble on the horizon.

I needed to use the vacuum cleaner to do the upstairs. In order to do that, I needed to empty the canister. The model looks something like this:


I figured it worked much like any other canister/cylinder vacuum, so I confidently detached the cylinder from the base, and then pushed the swizzly bit at the top from the 'lock' to 'unlock' position. There I stood for a couple of moments, trying to work out why the lid would not come off. It was only a couple of moments. That was because it took a couple of moments for the total filthy contents of the full cylinder to drop all over my feet - and all over the newly-cleaned and still damp carpet. A sailor would have been ashamed to use the words I used as I comprehensively cursed the (no-doubt) male designer.

Having bought a Halti for Sebastian, since my aging elbow joints in particular were complaining in a way that OTC ibuprofen couldn't pacify because of his pulling (mere untrained bad manners)


I had to return it to the store yesterday after only two days and 4 walks, as he had managed to snap both the Halti and his new lead. I'm happy to report that the customer service at Viking Aquatics was impeccable: no quibbles, an instant replacement of both items, in spite of me having lost the receipt.

Then an in-law called to tell me they were visiting today. It was someone I like, and whom we don't see at all often; so I quelled my screams and ran round like a nutter cleaning up my own house, which had been pretty much abandoned this week (see helping out someone else above) - so much so that what I thought was a new carpet was in fact a layer of Alsatian fur.




At least it wasn't mold - it's too cold right now. My mood having scared even the children into helping me, a record time later the house was again something we don't have to feel ashamed of. Which is when the in-law called to say that they weren't coming after all because of the road conditions. Then Destructo Boy knocked over his juice onto my newly-washed floor. Followed in short order by his hot chocolate.



No need for dilution. It's the reason he's still alive.