It’s just another day.
But what a beauty! The sun is out, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful… and so are you! Haven’t I heard that somewhere else?
I’m nursing a gin-induced hangover today. What a dumb-ass I am! Yesterday was rounded off with local drama when our heavily pregnant neighbour, Ann, needed rescuing from immobility caused by back pain.
They had the ambulance out twice in the end. I was involved in attempts to move her indoors, and some general handholding and company/encouragement.
It was all rather bizarre, in a way. But also good neighbourly business. And as a result I got to know another neighbour, Rob. I see his partner all the time, but him less often, as he works long hours as a chef.
His mrs (in common-law parlance – and soon to be legal fact) looked after Tigger for us when we were last at Abbey House. And he came round with her, unbeknownst to us. A fellow musician, he was rather taken with the drum kit and various guitars lying around the place.
Anyway, we ended up hanging out and talking music, listening to stuff, chatting excitedly, and drinking. I even tried a puff on his vaping doodad. After a few beers, he brought over this nice spiced gun, which we quickly polished off (not a full bottle, thankfully).
Haven’t had a sesh like that in, ooh… aeons. It was very enjoyable. But I’m paying for it now with a clanging chimes of doom headache, and nausea and retching. Not actually barfed, tho’.
The paramedics got Ann up and moving last night, and I’ve just seen Raphael, her husband, taking her for a slow walk down the road. Good to she’s up and on the mend. She’s due in five weeks. The medics thought it might have been her going into labour.
I can hear them coming back now – Ann and Raphael, not the medics! Good to hear her talking calmly, and not crying or moaning in pain! Must’ve been very nerve racking, esp. at her late stage of pregnancy. She did say that the baby was calm throughout. Hopefully not too much stress would be communicated chemically/psychologically?
In more normal news of my daily doings, my second handsaw renovation is going nicely. I’ve got three or faw sours (a pleasing spoonerism that smacks of a phonetic mimicry of a Southern U.S. accent) that Clive, the previous owner of our house, left in his shed.
I’m slowly restoring and, in the argot of our era, ‘upcycling’ them. Replacing the hideous plastic handles with handmade wooden ones. My first, a medium sized rip-saw, will have a pretty basic plywood handle; thought it’d be an interesting experiment.
And the second is a tenon-saw, for which I’ve carved a much more sexily curvaceous handle. No idea what the timber is. Kind of looks like pine. I’m thinking I might stain it a slightly darker colour. Hmm?
Yesterday, in addition to the local social drama, was a good day of Freecycle scavenging. I got a nice vintage hand-drill, 50 rather rustic looking ‘cabbage-white’ bricks, a BBQ (poss to be used for tempering metal, as well as cooking sausages!?), and a set of shelves, the latter for recycling the lumber.