Tuesday, 7 July 2015
What Is Happening Today
Tuesday, heavy, overcast, close. Uccle has already sunk into its traditional summer torpor, broken only broken by occasional visits from chuggers, red-faced and insistent men from Flanders trying to sell me sacks of potatoes and DHL delivery operatives bearing Rubik's cubes. The children have been out at their mandated improving activities all day and now they are back, furiously internetting to make up for lost time. The dog is lying very flat and very still on the tiled hall floor. I tried to lie down next to him earlier, because it looked cool and restful, but he pushed me quite deliberately in the face with a paw, then, when I didn't move, got up and stalked away.
I should probably think about dinner, because we have no food (apparently gin and Picard gougères isn't a meal, which seems a very myopic attitude to me) and I fear I must go to the depressing shitty Carrefour down the road for some grey slice of animal, but I am stranded on top of my bed in a tepid stew of aimlessness. I have done the easy bits of my editing, only one tiny and two small bits that require thought remain and thought seems to require aimlessness, so that is what I am doing: fuck all. That is fine as long as I don't think about all the other, more productive humans out there. If you've achieved anything this week, just don't tell me, eh?
Current domestic flashpoints
The opening and shutting of windows. Do you live in a house where every resident is in agreement on the optimum temperature and circulation of air? You are fortunate.
The bowls of plastic beads submerged in water dotted around the kitchen and bathroom, like so many clusters of frogspawn. I do not know what the point of these is. I have chosen not to enquire.
The dismantled Rubik's cubes, left in pieces on every flat surface, then placed in freezer bags by a disgruntled, well, me, then abandoned on the stairs.
The chickens, who are raucous, from early in the morning. The plastic bag in the chicken coop which no one has removed despite my requests.
Children's apparently lack of familiarity with basics of plumbing, esp. flushing lavatories.
Socks, discarded everywhere, in crumpled balls of squalor.
Current notes on my phone
Wikipedia link to the entry on the Gold Standard.
"Murderous single-minded shotgun"
A text for translation that contains the phrase: "ignite a relative radiance in the cosmic funkitude".
"I have such a strong muscle memory of this house"
"Arab stallion -> jokes"
"Moustaches bristling syphilis fermenting"
"Monkey riding deer"
"Enright tea hot cross bun"
"Aspirateur et sac - Home and Away"
Why do I have no money (I know the many and varied reasons, but somehow this does not help)?
Saw a picture of myself from the weekend and I look very fat even though I thought I was looking good (reverse body dysmorphia strikes again).
Everyone is getting older and I do not like it.
I have ordered new glasses and they are more of a Statement than the current pair and I do not know whether I will still like them when they arrive.
A new series of Ru Paul's Drag Race has reached Netflix.
The children are gainfully (or possibly not gainfully, I am indifferent) occupied for the next 2.5 weeks and after that it is only a few days until we go and hide in Yorkshire for a fortnight.
Many promising books hoarded and ready to read (you know that even when I don't update my blog I update my reading list, don't you? I do.).
Chameau/Chat mort hilarity.
It is now time for gin and Picard gougères.
You? Any contribution to any of these categories?