Poor, spoilt silly Bailey. We took the cushion covers off to wash them, leaving him with no cushion to lie on when he’s on my lap. I tried folding a blanket but it wasn’t the same. The cushion covers are on again & he’s happy, if somewhat of a nuisance, because he wants to make up for lost lap time.
Note: I have seen the plural version of the French word for fuel a lot lately, so if anyone wants to point out the alt text should be singular, you are a) right, but b) up against whatever autopilot I was operating on at the time.
I’m glad I was told this is Tom Baker. I looked at the face & thought it was Richard E Grant dressed up as an older Fourth Doctor.
A screenshot of a French translation exercise from Duolingo. One is meant to translate “ Fuel is expensive” into “Les carburants sont chers”. Duo is tapping into world affairs again.
Yes, Duo, but you can fly. You don’t have to buy petrol or diesel.
Give it a few seconds for the wet food to start flavouring the bottom layers. Give the food dish to Bailey & watch him for a while. He will try to avoid the Drontal if he can, but he can’t completely escape it. It looks like he took in the full dose. Phew.
Well. That’s how you get Bailey to take his Drontal. You put in a small handful of dry food. You chop the Drontal dose into small pieces and squash them as finely as possible over the dry food. Then you open a 100g sachet of wet food & squeeze it out over the lot.
Your slang has been regarded as cartoonish in decades past by others, particularly the British. Oddly enough, I recently finished rereading a Ngaio Marsh murder mystery where the villain had been posing as an American, but was unmasked because he used a now obsolete piece of Australian slang.
How do you cope with us calling paramedics “ambos”?
It’s been such a day that I should probably go to bed earlier than usual. Also, the night is a little chilly. Bailey will appreciate a throw rug over him, & so will I.
I did catch a bag that should’ve been in the red bin, so a bit of checking to see if if there’s anything else like that that can be headed off at the pass before the skip is collected will be required. With a second red bin, heaven knows we have room now.
But our garden expert recommended the woman who cleans her house to clean ours. So the skip has been mostly filled on the first day. (They cleaned out some stuff that was in the laundry, which might’ve been a quarter of it.)
Blimey, what a day. We had a skip delivered this morning, thinking that we’d steadily get rid of some accumulated rubbish during the week that it’s here. I put some stuff in before noon this morning, without making an appreciable dent.
We have a second red bin. We’ve let the granny flat at the front of the house, and two households into one red bin for general waste does not bear thinking about. So we applied. The fun part was getting the angry little drop-down menu for service commencement to be reasonable. It took a while!
Oh dear. ABC’s 24 hr news channel just showed some top of the hour headlines. One of them was
POPE FUED
I know it’s a typo, but still…
Double yay!
Autumn must be finally arriving. It’s going to be cooler overnight. Any more of that, & I might have to bring out the flannelette sheet sets. I have set out a throw rug for Bailey, but he tends to prefer barging his way under the covers to lie against my back.
Pain for him too. Side effects of chemotherapy, I gather. But nicer for us than the previous reason a Lord Mayor of Newcastle had to resign: the handing out of brown paper bags with money in them. (This was bound to happen when people elected a developer to the position.)
Mum has decided she wants to be in the wheelchair for a little while. She will have to go back to bed when the next lot of care visitors come, but she’s eaten a cheese & tomato omelette, & is now watching the coverage of the Artemis II splashdown with a cup of coffee.
And the same to you, George. You being you gets us delightful glimpses of NZ, & that’s treasurable at a time like this.
In my head. Drat me, I pressed reply too early.
So you’ll be pleased to know I have the words “Bodum teapot” repeating themselves to the tune of the chorus/refrain/whateveryoucallit.
That leaves the Labor candidate, the Greens candidate (currently Deputy Lord Mayor), and the Socialist Alliance candidate. I may need to metaphorically hold my nose come voting time.
The Liberal Party’s candidate doesn’t actually live in the Newcastle LGA, but must be promising to move if elected. Worse still is a candidate claiming to be independent but lists a potentially dubious Christian web address for policy. (I don’t want to go past the front page, sorry.)
The Lord Mayor had to resign for health reasons, so we’re going into a by-election for a new person to occupy the role. One of the candidates is a former weatherman/newsreader for the local tv station. Not sure that I care for having a celebrity in the role, even a minor one.
Very practical, which is not to be sneezed at.
Between a Methodist-raised mother & a father with a Presbyterian father and an Anglican mother, I think we failed to gain a tradition other than buy them before Easter & try not to forget to eat them. I’ll be interested to see others’ comments.
Yes, there were a lot of sets for sale, some of them quite pricey if they were going for the vintage look. And I don’t think we were too worried about kitchen matching either, as long as the colour wasn’t black or practically fluoro.
Ouch. Sorry.
Smashing Pumpkins earworm. “In spite of my rage I am still just a hammer with chain.” Apologies, Dr Thompson. I was hoping to rid myself of it by putting it into pixels.
Nearly missed a delivery today. The postie delivering had got back into his van by the time I’d got out the front door. Gave him a wave, & luckily for me he got out of the van again, to hand over the package & have me sign for it. Good thing. Don’t feel like chasing parcels right now.