I completed my first bear of the new year last night. Unfortunately, I can't show any photographs of him yet - and photographs of the next few bears will have to wait also.
In the meantime, I am waiting for the fishing line to arrive from Amazon, so I can finish my pouffe.
My mother is due back from South Africa this morning, so I was up early. I couldn't sleep last night - I kept waking up thinking 'darn, I forgot to take the bottles down to the recycling bins'. Worse still, the cardboard box that the bottles were heaped up in (this is a month's worth or so, by the way) finally collapsed a few days ago, so they are all lying around on the ground outside our back door.
Have you seen the Armstrong & Miller sketches where the guy is in the middle of something traumatic - like discovering his wife in bed with another man - when he suddenly shouts 'damn' and rushes out the front door with bin bags in both hands, chasing the rubbish truck down the road? Sorry, it made me laugh.
Anyway, I don't know why I'm on here talking about putting the bins out - I should be actually doing it! Hopefully, I will be back with photos of my pouffe forthwith.
2 comments:
The "chasing the refuse collection operatives" thing happened to me twice on the same day last week.
I was going through the process of waking my brain up in the morning, plodding around the house at about 7am when I heard engine and other bin-emptying related noises outside. I rushed outside, grabbed the wheelie bin and then legged it up the road to get it emptied. Once empty, I wheeled the bin back to its position by the garage door, came indoors and started trying to work out how the kettle operates.
Few minutes later the unmistakable sound of breaking glass announced the arrival of the recycling collection truck. Once again I rushed outside, into the garage and hefted the very full and rather heavy crate we have for putting glass, metal and paper into and then I was off up the road again trying to catch the truck up to have our recycling recycled....
Ah, but you make it sound so very elegant - dashing down the street pushing a wheelie bin! We don't have anything so convenient unfortunately. When we have to run after the dustmen, it's a sort of pregnant waddle (sorry Naomi) with a black sack in each hand.
Worse still, our dustman times it precisely so he starts pulling the truck away just as we come puffing up with our bags. Have you heard Bob Newhart's 'School for Bus Drivers' sketch? The trick apparently, for the pedestrian, is to run (or waddle) at half speed, and then put on a sudden burst as you approach.
Sadly it sounds all too athletic for me - particularly at that time in the morning. I have to content myself with severly docking his Christmas tip!
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