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Monday 17th 55F/13C [7.30] Sunny periods and a cool 19C/66F peak. 21C/70F in the room.13C/55F in the greenhouse. It may be time to close the wide open, double doors at each end of the greenhouse. I had been keeping them open 24x7 to keep the goldfish pond as cool as possible during the hottest time of year. When no extra heat was needed indoors.
Up at 7am after an unusually quiet night. With more weird dreams. I was developing a skewed plane to represent the difficulty of survival based on parent's wealth. A generalization of course. Since some, with obscene wealth, choose the drugs or booze lifestyle. To compensate for their mental retardation. They lack the imagination to discover anything exciting about their world or their existence.
9.00 I have been tidying the space outside the main entrance door. In preparation for the invasion. There are now two picnic tables and more chairs. I moved some garden furniture from the greenhouse to go outside the door. The picture doesn't do the scene justice. It really is much worse than it looks. The cream was an experiment from 25 year ago. It was not well liked but it was too late by then.
Back in the living room: I swear I saw evidence of a dining table. Beneath the accumulated layers of convenience in deposition. After passing that hurdle. The floor should be quite easy to find.
It took some doing but I was finally able to move the glass display cabinet towards the new glazed door. Its glass sides and front nicely allow the extra light to pass straight through. The sunshine is reflecting off the workshop wall and into the room. What was once a dark tunnel is now full of light. I intend to replace the overhanging roof with clear plastic. After which some white paint on the walls would work wonders.
Years of accumulated bark and wood chips have been cleared from the greenhouse floor. I have moved the various recycled furniture around to no great effect. Always too much stuff! Always an excess! Lean-to greenhouses are supposed to be restful places. I can barely see the floor for junk.
The stands and tables were mostly bought for supporting my wife's plants. That was years ago. They hold no useful purpose now. I have surely proven, beyond all reasonable doubt, that I can easily kill plants. By neglect or overenthusiastic watering. I have the proof!
10.30 62F/17C. I am resting over morning coffee.
11.30 The greenhouse is looking a lot clearer. I am knackered but will continue on.
16.00 Hours later and I am back from the village supermarkets. Where I stopped at the petrol station. Only to have "inclusivity" foisted upon me. The card payment machine threw up a load of illegible turquoise text. When I inserted my card. So I tried again. The same illegible garbage with pink text thrown in for good measure. All having to be read against an upward facing screen reflecting the sky. I could no more read it than walk on water. Not if my life depended on it.
Whoever passed this utter nonsense for national distribution should go right back to infant school. Nah, way too advanced! Kindergarten. Where they can stay for as long as playing with illegible colours and texts suits all of us.
A petrol payment, credit card reading machine is likely to be used. By any nationality you could possibly name. Completely and utterly at random. Even Shell's least retarded and nepotistically chosen executive must have heard of tourists by now?
So legibility comes close to being about [say] 99.9999% of getting the job done. Lets say black on white text. Or preferably white on black. For increased contrast in difficult lighting conditions. Of a size which can be easily read by [let's say] 99.9999%. Of those needing to ascertain what the idiot machine is trying to tell them. Because they may have left their reading glasses in the car or even at home. I hadn't and have been recently upgraded with progressive lenses. I can read down to 2mm high text without a problem.
They [I] only want to buy petrol for [any random] god's sake. Not pass a bløødy colour blind test! One devised by Shell's most sociopathic, predatory, sadistic executive. You know him, the one who is always on his own in the staff canteen. Sharing images of torture and bloody mayhem. With fellow enthusiasts, on the dark web, on his mobile phone.
Before rushing home to share the same images on a giant, wall mounted TV screen. With the colours turned right up! He claims to have been blind, deaf, mute and autistic until he was 21. But somehow passed out of Cambridge Business School. Top of his class at only 11½.
I was gone for less than 25 minutes but a harvester had completed the front field and was already out on the next. Truly amazing!
19.15 The cleaning and tidying goes on. I removed a pile of stuff from the kitchen. Swept, mopped and swept the tiled floor. I haven't bothered with dinner. I might have a cheese roll.
And did. With halved cherry tomatoes.
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