where art collides philosoperontap

It has been reported that our bathroom scales are on the blink. I replaced the battery yesterday after the LED had been showing ERR. Today THG says it was suggesting she weighed 20 stone. Must have been on a 2x setting, at least. Anyway, ever loving me said I’d buy her a new one for Christmas. A good one. One that tells you what you want to hear. If it doesn’t exist I’ve just invented it 🙂

In other news there is something going on at the Walkers crisps factory in Lincoln that may concern you. One of my sources of distraction is the new tab function in chrome on the phone. It offers you links to lots of news items it thinks may be of interest. There are occasions when it does come up trumps but often the links are to crappy media sites who are more interested in clickbaiting than anything of real interest. 

This morning’s clickbait was a Yahoo article about Walkers discontinuing one of its spicy crisp brands after 50 years. I clicked. I can report that ”the much-loved Smith’s Spicy Tomato Snaps are no more, after manufacturers decided to pull the plug on the Lincoln-made snack earlier this month.” The hyphens are Yahoo’s not mine. Probably AI.

Well this news left me in a very slight state of passing confusion. I’d never heard of Smith’s Spicy Tomato Snaps. They can’t have been that much loved. Also I wasn’t aware that the Smith’s brand, a staple of my childhood, was even still going. Maybe this is its last gasp. Crunch time for Smith’s. Am I left salt ‘n shaken about this news (if you know you know and you probably need to be over fifty)? Nope. Figured it was worth sharing though.

Yesterday afternoon I watched the rugby in the shed. Over the course of three hours I managed something like two bottles of beer. Felt quite squiffy. Very full. A glass of primitivo with some pasta finished me off and I retired upstairs at half time in the Liverpool game. I was content that they didn’t need me watching to finish the job. Put Aston Villa to the sword. The imps lost though. FA Cup away against lower division opposition. Went to penalties. Giant killers.

So this Sabbath morning I have a relaxing time planned. I shall mostly be sitting in my chair in the window of the snug. I might read something. Do some ritin. Family tree research. Maybe even chat to the kids, if they are awake. THG will be out doing her devotions. It is a lovely autumnal morning for a walk. Maybe, just maybe the pedestrian crossing beckons and who knows, perhaps the bus stop although history suggests that may be a step too far for a first sortie. Reality is that the outdoor walking began yesterday with three separate walks to the shed so I may be ready for the bus stop. Will the bus stop be ready for me 🙂 

The memory foam cushion seems to be making a difference. No sore backside to report. Good stuff. Otherwise not really much to report.

…

In an effort to get up off my arse and do something I slipped on my deck shoes and went for a walk. Out through the front door, up to the entrance of the drive and left along the pavement towards the pedestrian crossing. Lots of leaves covering both pavement and grassy verge but people’s footsteps had cleared a path along the pavement which is the path I followed. Took me no time whatsoever to reach the pedestrian crossing although we have to remember my speed is “dead slow” shuffling as I do to keep 50% of my weight off the new hip. At the crossing a woman with a Tesco bag caught me up, pressed the button and crossed anyway as there were no cars in sight. A bit annoying if the next car along had to stop at the red light with the woman already over and away. Hey.

I steadily plodded on past the tree in front of next door’s drive and on to the bus stop whereupon I was overtaken by a woman with an orangey brown woolly hat, leggings covered with skulls and a bag slung over her shoulder who uttered a cheery hello as she blew past me. I of course cheerily replied, touched the bus stop with a crutch and turned for home. I was by this time a good three cricket pitches away from the house. It’ll do for the first adventure I thought. The hip was growing tired but as much as anything it is the tediously slow walking that stops me from going further at this stage.

Home now and back in my window seat, cheeks healthily aglow. THG reckons my recovery progress is faster this time around. She may be right.

I checked the lake cam but no fox news. No herds of deer either. Just squirrel. A cat visited the front drive in the wee small hours but that really holds no interest. Unless it was a tiger which it wasn’t.

I must pop down for a chat with Brian at some stage. Trouble is those kinds of conversations are best done from a chair on the deck. Brian isn’t one for moving from his fishing spot. His philosophy is if you have a good place to fish don’t give it up. Possession is nine tenths of the law. He has a point. He always seems to have a fish at the end of his line.

Sitting on the deck ain’t a thing right now. Partly because it ain’t sitting on the deck weather but also because the deck is slippery and the available seating is too low for me right now. When I watched the rugby in the shed yesterday I piled three coffee sack cushions onto the armchair to give me enough height off the ground. Ended up with legs dangling so it was bit higher than the physio actually specified but better too high than too low and me not being able to get up. Got another physio session a week on Friday.

I’m quite looking forward to spring and summer in front of the lake. One of life’s luxuries. A remote log cabin or shed with great vistas from the deck. The shed is pretty much self contained with a fridge for lemonades. If anyone wants to swing by and pay a visit they are very welcome. Check first as it would be a shame to make that journey only to find that I’ve gone off hunting for the day, or to watch the cricket.