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Today I have mainly been v1

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Preparing the family house for sale. It has been a major undertaking, involving the conversion of some attic space into a 4th bedroom, bringing in a new driveway, building an oak-framed cart barn, and installing a new, relocated sewage treatment plant which entailed major upheaval and full refresh of the rather 'decadent' garden, together with decoration inside and out. The work has been going on since March, and the light at the end of the tunnel is tentatively in view.

The sale is the legacy of a long-ago divorce - after wife left, I largely raised our two children, now well-established with their own lives and careers. My ex, long since remarried, has come back to the UK from her sailing yacht home in the Caribbean to oversee the sale. Today she is coming to the house to discuss the sale. A deeply stressful time, and an uncertain future ahead.

It'll take your mind off Brexit.
 
Something of a mixed day, missed a message about a meet time for a bike ride so ended up riding solo. Pretty decent 57 miles in the end but caught in a huge deluge towards the last few miles.
 
Filling the wood store for our buyers (my luck penny) and covering the rest in preparation for the incoming storm/heavy rain
 
some work - pondering a new PC something smaller than i have now (desk top case - i7/32Gb) - need i7 and memory for a particular corporate application i run!!
 
Bit of dry fly fishing on my local stream. It varies enormously from year to year. This year is rubbish so just an hour prospecting as their was hardly a rising fish to be found. Caught one that was rising:that was satisfying. The other by just casting to ‘likely’ spots. Big? You’d need another couple to cover a piece of toast!
 
Farting like a good ‘un this this evening.

Even The Wife remarked on the frequency and the piquancy.
“that must have hurt…”

This (unbelievably) is a rare event.
I don’t pass wind often, and it rarely smells of much.

Back in ‘the cheap tins of baked beans’ days, i.e. The 1980’s, I would be able to clear a room with nothing but olfactory violence.
Cabbage, boiled eggs, lager - the fuel of bottom rockets.

The last 30 odd years have been barren in the bottom region, maybe I have found my mojo at last.

Far more likely is that the new medication is messing with my gut. More time to brew so to speak.

(meals today - Couple of digestive biscuits for breakfast, sausage sandwich for lunch, tuna and lettuce sandwich for evening meal. Nothing weird or fart catalysts that I know of. ?)

note: I have farted 6 times at least while typing this wiffle.
 
I have been pruning a rowan tree that's got too big for its roots. Unfortunately, one big bastard branch is just too far away to be reached with the loppers without serious risk of a 'Casualty' style accident. To misquote 'Jaws', I'm gonna need a bigger ladder (or longer loppers).
 
On the default route for my five mile walk (the one I use when I can’t be bothered to think where I’m going) the fruit is ripening on the brambles and there are crabapples to be grabbed overhead. I reckon today I managed to eat one of my recommended daily five en route. In a couple of weeks’ time I will need to take a bucket with me.
 
On one of our regular walks a few years ago, we were all set to collect some blackberries from the brambles that line the route. Mrs H was about to start picking the fruit, when she spotted a bloke doing the same some distance away. 'That chap's only wearing shorts' she said, 'it's not that hot.'

Then she realised that he wasn't even wearing shorts, or indeed anything at all. Catching sight of us, and using his punnet to protect his modesty, he went scampering off into the undergrowth like a nymph surprised whilst bathing.
 
Something of a mixed day, missed a message about a meet time for a bike ride so ended up riding solo. Pretty decent 57 miles in the end but caught in a huge deluge towards the last few miles.
Got out for a ride yesterday evening, good fun, 28 miles. Tonight I fancied a local potter but I was tired and shagged out after a long squawk. A fairly sh*t day in the factory, I am starting to understand why my office has had a revolving door for the last 2 years. Recruiting the full time replacement for me is going to be a challenge, the place has an awful reputation. I now know why.
 
Today I have also been renewing my passport, which actually expired in 2019. After several rejected efforts, I finally took a selfie that passed the Passport Office's requirements.

I am also pondering whether to keep or return a casual shirt. It's a bit on the garish side, and I'm more of the boring monochrome type.
 
Off to see the The Hundred at Old Trafford later, I’m sure a beer or two will be drunk. Booked a holiday yesterday for next summer, nearly booked it in the morning, but Mrs L wasn’t sure, a chance remark from a friend then led to me finding the same holiday £900 cheaper.

Going out next Friday and considering buying a garish shirt for the occasion…
 
Farting like a good ‘un this this evening.

Even The Wife remarked on the frequency and the piquancy.
“that must have hurt…”

This (unbelievably) is a rare event.
I don’t pass wind often, and it rarely smells of much.

Back in ‘the cheap tins of baked beans’ days, i.e. The 1980’s, I would be able to clear a room with nothing but olfactory violence.
Cabbage, boiled eggs, lager - the fuel of bottom rockets.

The last 30 odd years have been barren in the bottom region, maybe I have found my mojo at last.

Far more likely is that the new medication is messing with my gut. More time to brew so to speak.

(meals today - Couple of digestive biscuits for breakfast, sausage sandwich for lunch, tuna and lettuce sandwich for evening meal. Nothing weird or fart catalysts that I know of. ?)

note: I have farted 6 times at least while typing this wiffle.
You might have made a decent living doing that on the stage a century or so ago, sadly it’s just not appreciated these days.
 
work - new trainers arrived from On Running, not bad given i ordered yesterday afternoon. Mine fit perfectly, the ones for my wife need to go back as they are a half size too small.....

Interviewing - the candidate this morning pulled out, one to follow later this afternoon
 
I’ve an odd craving for a roast dinner at this time of year. I’ve already got a huge stock pot on the stove with a quarter of a pigs carcass simmering for at least 24hrs. The roast potatoes are at 200 degrees and browning nicely. But it ain’t half hot mum!
 
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