supermouse

I've got a morning routine in place again. On bad days, I get as much done as I can, and on good days I do all of it. The first thing is putting yesterday's clean pots away, the next thing *currently* is putting yesterday's dirty pots into soak in hot soapy water, as our dishwasher is broken. Then I wipe the kitchen sides and unlock the back door. I empty any bins that need emptying, and sort out the cat tray. I check my seeds in the greenhouse. After that, I feed the birds, then the cats - so the birds get a time to eat while the cats are preoccupied. Meanwhile, I finish the pots, then get myself breakfast. I'll usually then remember to water the plants in the conservatory, although I should be doing those at the same time as I'm checking my other plants.

Today, I also posted a letter to my sibling and nibling, and a parcel to a friend. I love having the post office in easy walking distance, without any busy roads to cross. I can't even see very well today, and I didn't notice until I had to put the parcel on the scales and couldn't at all see where they were until they'd been pointed at. What also makes a nice change from Horwich, is that the children round here don't just randomly spout verbal abuse at adults in passing. It's like a huge weight lifted to have that constant, casual abuse gone.

If I'm going to keep being outside in cold weather, perhaps I should get my head shaved again. It's a real nuisance to get it washed, and I can't get to a hairdresser to get it styled, which it now needs.

I have windows open, airing my room through. Spice loves it when the bathroom window is open, as she can perch on the sill and watch all the little birdies. She caught a sparrow once, and seemed utterly disappointed in the taste, so her eagerness to get after birds in general has faded a lot. She'll watch them, but makes no effort to get outside to get them. I'm glad, as we have an entire flock of long-tailed tits that visit the garden most of the day, and I'd hate either cat to get them. Hatter's more eager, but he's also piebald and easy to see, while Spice is cryptically coloured. Neither like to be outside much or for long during the day, thank goodness.

I like living here.

Stormy, stormy night,
Paint the windows wet and blatt,
Look on bushes bent and flat,
With lights that shade the darkness orange beige.
Angels from the sill
Fly past trees and cause a thrill
I think my wreath is flying still
In circles over flattened flooded land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me
When you forecast this insanity
How you tried to lay this out calmly
I did not listen, I did not did not know how,
I wish I'd listened now.

Stormy, stormy night
In Humber, Thames and German Bight
And gales about the Isle of Wight
With outlook looking worse into the day,
Fair Isle isn't fair
And Rockall looks beyond repair
But don't despair for Finisterre
Fitzroy was found just blown into the bay.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me
When you forecast this insanity
With storm force twelve and no visibility
I did not listen, I did not know how
I'll bloody listen now.

In this new garden (at the new house), we have two holly trees, one male, one female (and absolutely covered in berries). They were being smothered by two trees, so, after a lot of swearing and some blood, I've managed to rescue both hollies using a bow saw and a pair of secateurs. The lawn is now covered in branches which will, one day, be excellent fuel for the chiminea.

I've also dug out the gate through from front to back, which was entirely covered in ivy, and heavily trimmed back overgrown evergreen bushes. So now I have lots and lots of foliage, most of which is ivy.

The plan next is lunch, then making at least one wreath out of ivy-plus-other-greenery.

Longer term, by sawing out the branches, I've opened up a large area of south-facing ground, which right now is covered in a beautiful deep mulch of dead leaves, one day to become wonderful rich compost. I suspect it's rather acid, but I have buckets of wood ash to lime it with. There was rhubarb, but in between our viewing the house and moving in, someone literally came into the garden and stole it. I wish I were kidding. Still, I can always get more crowns, and at least I know the soil just there is suitable.

The one thing this new bed does not need is my usual first crop of peas. Soil fertility really does not look to be an issue. However, there are some crappy looking exhausted places, elsewhere in the garden, where I can grow sugar snap peas and sweet peas together. There are probably things I should interplant to deter diseases.

If I am going to plant fruit trees and bushes, then now is the time, but I think tbh, that can wait until next year. That said, I might start a hawthorn in a pot, grown from a berry. This garden has tons and tons of cover, but bugger all in the way of food for birds and, cats notwithstanding, I'd like to see more birds around. I can bet fairly safely that right now, there's a robin picking over all the ground I've just disturbed for dropped insects.

Random has emptied a lot of boxes and put a lot of things away. She is now going to see how well cardboard burns in the chiminea.

The thai food last night was really good. The conservatory looks as though it will work quite well as a place to do things, once it's fully set up. It helps a great deal that Random got me a space heater to warm the room up. That and a pair of thermal socks and I should be good to go.

I'm in the new house right now, in bed with the first hot water bottle of the winter by my feet, and Radio 4 discussing Egypt. Hatter (the grey-and-white nearly-a-kitten) is exploring the room. Spice, the bushy cinnamon-and-chocolate-coloured torbie, is downstairs as far as I can tell. Pol's in the living room huddling over what little bandwidth there is, as we're sharing a 3G card for the next three weeks.

I made the mistake of trying to load xkcd, which is normally a polite, tiny little 3-square comic. But tonight, when I am trying out the lack-of-bandwidth, it's a mega-huge image of bigness. I got from the comments that it's something to do with money, but I had to stop downloading it when Pol complained that I'd eaten ALL the internet. First world problems.

We're going to have to get the plumbing in my ensuite (ensuite! again!) bathroom, because something in the cistern makes it whistle like someone calling a dog back from a long way away, and then rattle the pipes as though trying to get out. Tonight will be... long. I expect by the time we're moved in enough to get it fixed, I'll be used to it.

The weather continues, thankfully, damp and cool. Not snowy and frozen, which would have made the whole move three times as difficult. When we moved into Geekhouse North, it was during a cold and very snowy snap, and Pol was run absolutely ragged trying to take everything across in the landrover and unload it in darkness, frost and snow. This time, while it's a bit soggy out most days, the weather has been fairly kind. Random has been run absolutely ragged, and Pol wants to hide away for three days to calm down again. I'm fairly okay, as long as I work to make sure this room is liveable asap.

I'm looking forward to putting things away and finding out where everything is. Got to go, Spice wants a cuddle.

I'm living in a mostly empty house at the moment, and for the next few days. This room is simply furnished but still has bed, shelf and television. And all my PC games and DVDs. Upstairs has the cat tray, a scratching post and a drying rack full of clean clothes. Downstairs has the sofa and fishtank, a tiny coffee table and more folding chairs. The kitchen is more or less a full working kitchen, just rather emptier than usual. Because there's so little Stuff there, it's all very tidy and very clean.

Today, I have very little I have to do. I've got to go out with Random this evening and get more catfood, cat litter, some sugar soap and some gaffer tape. I've already done everything I wanted to do today - the cupboards are now all scrubbed, except the last couple where I have glasses, plates, tea and mugs.

So, I can spend the day doing whatever I want. This weekend will be a *very* different story, but today? Today is for relaxing. And instead of finally playing all my computer games, or learning Spanish, or watching all those films I meant to watch one day, I am longing, *longing* to be at the new house, sorting it out. I think our landlord's 'surprise!' house viewing has put me on edge.

Spice provided amusement for me at lunchtime by grabbing, running off with, growling and even hissing over a large chunk of sharon fruit.

So, clearing out the loft today, I sorted through my DVDs and chucked out the old games I have on Steam or won't ever play, and old DVDs that turned out to be a bit crap. There are also a few I've forgotten about and am looking forward to watching. Anyway, just as we've finished and I am putting things back, I find a DVD on the floor. Still wrapped. I thought we'd cleared the floor, but oh well. I pick it up. It's a creepy looking game, called something like Dexter's Spooky Adventures (nothing to do with the American television series), and has lots of cartoons and details on the back of spooky fun with tentacles and the like. I absolutely do not remember buying this game. It doesn't even look like a game I would try.

So here's a spooky looking game I've never heard of, and don't remember buying, turning up in my loft on Hallowe'en, just after sunset.

I put it straight in the skip. Unopened.

Since Google+ won't have me, I've moved to Diaspora. I'm Supermouse The Rodent there. I can probably sort out invites.

There's been a debate about what Google+ has as a naming policy. I've kept my head down on that one, since my name on Google+, as it is everywhere else (including most of my offline life) is Supermouse The Rodent. Since I've now been picked up by Google+ as having an 'inappropriate username', I feel free to talk without attracting people reporting me out of spite.


( Many people are having their legal, tax-named accounts excluded )

( Being suspended on Google+ can brick your Android phone )

Nottingham is built half on clay, half on sandstone. One of the things about sandstone is that if you want to tunnel into it, then you can do so by taking, say, a dessert spoon and going for it. I've dug out a small depression before now using a pencil. As a result of this, the underground of the city resembles a series of giant rabbit warrens dug into swiss cheese.

One of the places I grew up was Dryden Street, in a flat backing onto Peel Street. The flat was part of a modern block of six, the estate being dotted with such blocks. There was a lawn around the block, then bushes, then a brick wall around the lawn. Just outside this brick wall was a very small brick hut with a steel door, almost next to our flat, which we assumed the estate manager used to store chemicals, although we did wonder why it was only the size of a telephone booth.

It turned out that the door leads to stairs down to an extensive area of sand mines, which were opened up *once* to visitors and I was lucky enough to go and see them. I've just been reminded of this oddity today. The sand mines might not be especially large, as sand mines go, but it was very strange to have this whole network of tunnels right underneath our very ordinary brick houses, and especially to have them reached by a simple steel door set into a tiny brick hut.