A pedant’s nightmare

Some time in the early hours of this morning, Mirinda was woken up by the window rattling. This happens whenever the wind blows in the wrong direction. It only rattles when it’s open because of the long metal rod which keeps the window open at a fixed angle.

When the window rattles, the wind will invariably continue across the room and rattle the door. The door used to rattle a lot worse before we had the extension built but it still rattles a bit. Anyway, this cacophony of rattling wakes Mirinda up.

It doesn’t wake me up. What wakes me up is Mirinda continually jumping out of bed trying to stop the rattling. This morning she gave up trying and eventually closed the window. While this is pretty much guaranteed to eventually get me up and out of bed and moving to a more ventilated room, it wasn’t the trigger this morning.

An exasperated Mirinda who was clearly not thinking muttered “For gods sakes!” under her breath. After 25 (almost 26) years of marriage you’d think she’d know by now how much I despise this sort of laziness no matter how little sleep she’s had.

Unfortunately the Green Room is presently full of clothes (some too big, some just right, some too small) on all surfaces and hanging from dining chairs. The bed has disappeared beneath chiffon and polyester and the floor is littered with man-traps disguised as wire hangers. The room was not an option. In fact, the door has been shut now for about a week.

The Old Rose Room is now generally used for storage and while there’s a camp bed in there, there’s no way I’d successfully set it up in a state of upright repose. So I went downstairs and went to sleep on the lounge with the back door open. I was also covered in puppies.

I didn’t get a lot of sleep but at least the level of language improved.

But that’s not really the main point of today’s post. The main point is how Brexit started today. Theresa May wrote a letter and today it was handed to Donald Tusk, President of the EU. The letter states her intention for the UK to leave the EU and triggers Article 50.

Not trusting Royal Mail, she gave it to a public servant who travelled over to Belgium and handed it to Donald in person. I’m surprised she hasn’t heard of the far less costly option of an attachment in an email…but maybe she just wanted the TV coverage to include more than just a computer screen and keyboard.

It’s a sad day…unless you’re a small-minded racist who doesn’t care about the future of your kids. Mind you, according to some Brexiteers, that’s not correct. They’re not racist and prefer to be thought of as ‘forward thinking.’ I don’t really consider going backwards as ‘forward thinking’ but that’s just me. For a country sometimes obsessed with fixing things that don’t work, it seems out of character to just throw it away instead.

Personally I have a real problem with the Isolationists and their walls, both metaphorical and physical. I hope they’ll like the lower wages and higher costs.

During this momentous occasion I was inside, doing washing and general tidying up given the weather was a bit drippy all day.

Postscript
Yesterday, mysteriously, I did something to a tendon in my left leg, at the top near the groin. It only hurt after spending a lot of time standing up (like when cooking) and trying to sit down. Serious agony. Honestly, it was very, very difficult sitting down. The only way was to lower myself with my left leg extended to a point where I could just fall into the chair. And it hurt. After a while, whatever I’d injured stopped hurting and I could stand up and wander around and the pain had dissipated. This pain dissipation only lasted for a while, returning as I walked around a bit more.

Because of this I spent most of the day sitting down. This helped a lot though I had to limit time spent on my feet to a minimum. By the end of the day climbing the stairs was a lot easier than it had been in the morning. Unfortunately the girls didn’t get a walk but, given the drippy weather, I’m not sure we’d have gone anyway.

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1 Response to A pedant’s nightmare

  1. Mum Cook says:

    You never said you fixed the window and did Miranda get back to sleep.
    Love mum xxxx

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