Those psychic readers out there will know that I am actually at my mother's hose for a week. If you don't already know that, then, fankly, you're a pretty crappy psychic. You suck and you should quit right now.
Mum went into hospital a month or so ago for a Stem cell transplant, which was all very exciting and that, and now she's home. But she's still a bit poorly, so I thought I'd give up a week of my holiday to come and do stuff for her.
Boy am I regretting it. I've suffered more daytime tv in the last 48 hours than any man should have to suffer in a lifetime. I may die.
I was ordered to peel mushrooms today for Mum's stew. Peel mushrooms? I've never heard anything so bizzare in my life. I ain't never peeled mushrooms and I don't intend to start.... oh, ok... I caved and peeled them. It's my mum. She has this... look.
Just a quick note about dog poo, now. It's very thoughtful of the council to put up those red dog poo bins at popular dog-walking spots such as the one I found myself at yesterday evening. Not much thought, however seems to have been placed into the actual location of the poo bins. right at the parking area is not especially helpful. There are few dogs that will do their dirty business at the very start of the walk. Rather, they will wait about 5 or 10 minutes and the take a dump in the long grass at the side of the path, which means that one then has to collect the poo in a specially designed device (cunningly disguised as a carrier bag) and carry the fetid stinking mess with you for the rest of the walk. So - for future reference, council - walk away from the car park for 5 or 10 minutes and stick the poo bin there. Thanks.
On a similar vein... Presumably there is a job out there, the title of which is 'Poo Bin Man'. You can picture the conversations when he gets home from work.
"Did you do anything nice at work today, dear?"
"No, darling. I emptied some poo into my truck."
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