So far, the best thing about slimming from a 42'' waist to a 40'' waist isn't that people say how slim I'm getting. Because they don't. Possibly because I'm not. Yet.
No. The best thing is that the supercheap jeans in the "Must Haves" range on the George label are UKP6 for a 42'' waist, and UKP3 for a 40. And that's how I saved 3 whole pounds sterling yesterday.
The cashier who took my money was dressed as a schoolboy, to advertise the new George range of school uniforms. And yes, it looked really pervy.
yesterday evening was spent with Donna and daughter Daisy, entertaining the latter while the former caught up with housework. It doesn't sound like much - babysitting for a few hours so the mother can do laundry and stuff - but it seemed to lighten the load.
Daisy, being 2, is endlessly inquisitive. Once she decided she trusted me, we happily explored the mysteries of kitchen cabinet, wet washing line and bathroom sink.
She was rather pleased with herself for finding a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush, and figuring out how to apply the one to the other, and the result to her teeth - all without guidance, just mimicking what she's obviously seen her parents do. I've still got toothpaste stains on this shirt.
She also likes to dive from stairs and chairs, just for the pleasure of having someone catch her. And to try climbing out of top floor windows, but only when someone is making sure she can't do it.
Then a night spent with John M and his new printer.
What should be a simple 5 minute procedure became a confusing 45 minutes of frustration, thanks to Hewlett-Packard's bloatware. And thanks to ambigious installation instructions, I had to deinstall seven HP applications, then reinstall only the necessary ones to make it work.
So much for plug-and-play. Exactly how inexperienced users - i.e. most users - are supposed to cope with this I don't know.
Anyway, all this followed by discussion of art and philosophy over tea and buscuits till 5 in the morning.
On the way home, I found an abandoned bicycle. The brakes didn't work at all and there were no tyres, it was a little rusty, painted bright orange with horrible cream plastic pedals. About as cool as James Last, and safely rideable as a luge on a glacier.
I thought I might be able to have it cheaply repaired as a spare bike, so started to wheel it home. A boy cycled up and said it was his, and I was welcome to it because it was "a piece of shit". So I trundled it all the way home, clanking and clanging like something from Heath Robinson.
Tonight, a date with CW. Update on the Kapitano lovelife coming soon.
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I feel a trip to ASDA is coming on.
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to the love life update.