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Thursday 5th 43F. Up at 5.15. Constantly reliving the past.
I dragged the wheelie dustbin along the drive at 11.30 last night. Another oversight in my horribly chaotic existence. The drive was covered in deep puddles. Sandals are not the ideal footwear for outdoor rambles. Neither the nocturnal variety or otherwise. The bins are usually cleared at about 5.30. Much too early for a mad sprint. While dragging a heavy and recalcitrant bin over the regulation 120m!
I keep thinking about where the wheeled dustbins should reside. In some [still as yet unplanned] exterior makeover. [Paved patio, et al.] Preferably somewhere else. Not just beside the rear entrance door to Chez Hovel. Frequent and easy access is not required due to appropriate indoor containers. Though even this [recent upgrade] may change.
There will be three wheeled bins soon. As [more] serious recycling finally reaches our patch of rural Denmark. Which will make the posh homeowner's, endangered hardwood, timber clad, exterior, wheeled bin receptacles completely obsolete. They were always built for two. Never three large and ugly plastic bins.
One may well imagine a sudden demand on local carpenter's valuable time for even larger carbuncles. With appropriate taxpayer "hand-worker" subsidies of course. Last time it was wine cellars and indoor saunas. When the [completely fictitious] reason given for the [upper middle classes] handout [by the politicooze] was "essential environmental improvement, maintenance and repairs," Supposedly aimed at the typically impoverished Danish homeowner. But that's just the national sociopathy of organised Danish corruption for you.
It could be worse. There were headlines about ten bins per household at one point. They have settled on three bins for the moment. With dividers and re-purposing of existing bins and using highly variable emptying routines. Depending not only on the time of year but weekly, fortnightly and monthly intervals. A sort of moveable feast. Based on the same irrationalities as the religious cults of yore.
I struggle to remember collection days now. Even with a bin emptying calendar on my Desktop. Expect complete chaos unless something serious is done about collection dates. (By the commercial, refuse and recycling company.) Emphasis on "refuse!" Any householder contravening the rules concerning the recycling bin's contents would find their overflowing bin un-emptied! 😱
Worse, was the large, colourful, printed card. Left publicly hanging by its hooked outline. From the green bin's handle by the refuse operatives. As a terrifying warning against further crime's against recycling! I am still shocked that they didn't paint large crosses on the bin as well!
Given the usual, roadside accessibility of the bins. One can well imagine the risks of an errant passer-by. Innocently dropping a piece of un-sorted litter into the wrong bin! Or neighbourhood enemies undermining the pristine contents of their rival's bin with a deliberately placed item. Ouch! This would certainly call for the installation of umpteen, external, security cameras. If only to avoid an action replay.
I can feel the printer being fired up again. Not that it will help if it never occurs to me to check the damned calendar. Perhaps I should staple it to the inside of the newly painted, back door? Even that would require my strongest reading glasses. If the reminder is not printed on fine quality A3 in large, bold capitals. I might even need a second wall light. Or a large magnifying glass. Hanging opportunely on an appropriately placed hook. Though I can well imagine difficulties arising, even then.
Getting back to the cushion cover headrests... I think I would really have preferred something in a coarse, Irish tweed. Cotton cord material hasn't quite the panache to pull it off. Not on my [recycled] quality, leather furnishings. I wonder if hessian sacking might work? Only the authentic look, for me. In my faux "cottagey," interior design scheme. I might just ask the local seamstress. To run something up for me. 😎
11.00 A belated, morning coffee over. My walk had been into an eye-watering nor-westerly. Definitely a "hoods up" affair today. Albeit with a relaxation of the rigour on the return leg. A [completely delusional] black and white cat was walking purposefully along the verge towards me. Until, alas too late, it spotted me at a few yards. Then lay as flat in the long grass as a well fed mouser can manage.
I spoke as I passed. Just to ensure it understood its empty subterfuge had been noted for posterity. Cats do seem to enter a dream state when they are out hunting. Often completely ignoring my presence until their very last moment. It is no wonder they suffer such huge losses on the roads! I doubt they even register the approaching vehicle which finally flattens them.
11.43. Fleeting watery sunshine. Three more zips removed from the cushion covers. Another job completed. I shall practice [hitherto unknown] patience and let the creases drop out. Before resorting to more brutal artifice.
An SMS has arrived. To notify me of my first, Tuesday cooking class this year. Still a fortnight away. So my precious freedom to roam aimlessly is not yet curtailed.
It is dry today. So I actually considered a ride. Until I remembered the wind. There must be some route. Which avoids my having to tack. Just to gain a few extra yards. There was a time when no wind would deter me from going out. Why cannot I draw on that same stupidity? Now that I really need it? Where do I really want to be? That isn't right here in the warm?
Well, that was disappointing! I'd bought a hideously expensive pair of GripGrab Polaris 2 gloves while I was in the city. Today they proved to perform well below the hype on the packaging. After 15 undulating miles of riding at 2C/36F my hands were aching with the cold!
Had I taken the GripGrab Nordic 2 divided mitts I'd probably have been perfectly comfortable. The Polaris 2 gloves are pleasant to wear and do not cause sweaty hands. The thickness provides extra comfort on the handlebars but they still aren't clumsy or bulky. I checked online and it us suggested -5+5C as their ideal range even in wet conditions. They are guaranteed to keep your hands dry.
From today's limited experience I'd suggest the Polaris 2 Primaloft gloves should be rated at 5C/41F. As a safe minimum on a bike unless you have excellent circulation. They may be warmer when walking in still air. I'll check that aspect when winter conditions demand gloves on my morning walk.
Not unexpectedly, given the lull in activity, my cycling fitness has definitely taken a tumble. I kept up the cadence, even on the hills, but my chest was soon aching. From unaccustomed deep breathing. My hearing aids were being squashed by the cycling helmet straps.
So my ears were a bit sore but not cold under the GripGrab Aviator winter [medieval] cap. A great product! I have several. Lesson learned. Leave the cycling helmet at home! It will only encourage the crash test dummies to drive closer than the law allows. 1.5m/5' minimum!
I am now well into the new load of logs. Those I checked measured between 19 and 22% humidity. They burn well when added to a red hot bed in the stove. I am working through the oddballs and shorter stumps first. Burning several at a time when outside temperatures drop. With all the internal doors wide open to spread the warmth. Rather than raising the lounge and attic to uncomfortable levels. [Over 20C/68F] While leaving the rest of the house cool or cold. The attic [entire upstairs] is being warmed via the lounge, kitchen and the open stairwell.
In theory it should help to keep the kitchen and bathroom warm. If it were warmer in the balcony room. Details of its sloping ceilings and insulation still need my attention. So I am treating it as a buffer zone. Rather than active living quarters. Which saves me actually having to do anything in there. 🙄
Dinner was fried chicken chunks, mushrooms and poached eggs. Nothing else was needed. The joy of tasting each individual mouthful of perfection is a lesson to us all. Well me at least. 😋
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