It was a full on hole - no wonder the grass had never grown over it. It went down and down and seemed to have small tunnels leading off it. I've no idea if it's DIY plumbing (this house has a lot, especially as it was on a septic tank until the mid 70s), rabbit or bandicoot - though neither have been seen in the area since before I was born (ie, a while).
Whatever, it was an enourmous hole. Like call down for Chinese takeaway hole. Fortunately I had lots of pots of dead things which I used to plug the hole, but it took eight pots worth to do it.
Like nothing can be simple. Ah well. Spent some time weeding the front yard on Sunday, because it was such a lovely day for it. I usually hate the front yard but since I get no better privacy in the back yard these days it doesn't matter. Let the world see me redfaced and sweaty in my old Cure tour t-shirt. I gotta say, it's a lot nicer weeding when you're not being nagged about it, plus I found my old weed pulling out tool, so that was fun. It kinda reminded me of childhood days, when I had time for such things (rather than just filling in between washing machine cycles).
I also managed to get some scanning done. So much to do but I've started just putting it together in packages that shouldn't take more than two or three hours to do at a time, as I can't spend a whole day on it any more, but one packet a week should get it turning over in a manageable amount.
In fact, I managed just about everything except planting the azaleas, writing or reading. Oh well. I did wallow in bed with the papers on Sunday but that was more of a sulk as an argument with the hose (more kinks than John Waters) had left me sopping and I was all cold and miserable.
I also watched, inbetween doing other stuff, while doing other stuff or in a rare break, some 60s and 70s stuff, mainly Strange Report, The Protectors (which I am still loving to bits), one episode of Space 1999 (soooo bad), and an episode of Gideon's Way with a young and psychotic Donald Sutherland (if that's not an oxymoron). Oh yeah, one of the Strange Report episodes had a very young Martin Shaw in it, looking, as he said, like he was off to audition for Planet of the Apes - smirk. As Judge John Deed was on Saturday night, that amounted to a fair whack of Mr Shaw in one weekend.
Also watched Doctor Who. Or rather watched Mr Simm make with the crazy. It's a truly scary thing when Captain Jack is the most serious and low key character in the show. I never knew John had all that screaming Bat-Villian crying to get out, but there you go.
Much better value was the repeat of Doctor Who on Sunday, which also featured Captain Jack. Oh yeah, that was why we were giggling when watching that episode of The Protectors that was credited to Tony Barwick was but just so Avengers it hurt, and we started joking that there was only one writer in the UK and that everyone else were just Brian's psueds, and that writers meetings on our fave old ITC shows had just consisted of Brian and a series of cardboard cut outs (ala any Avengers episode you care to mention). Then we grew sillier and suggested that there was no Russell T Davies and it was just Brian in a suit, like the Slitheen - the clues were in the scripts. It all started to make a strange sort of sense so we stopped :)
But I'd really like to know what those US shows Brian mentioned he was working on in one of the Profs commentaries were, because his name never comes up so he must be still using the psueds, but sometimes I'll be watching a cheesy US show with, shall we say, a bit of a fantasy base, and I'll just wonder. Especially as Brian has his, shall we say, very signature motifs that he likes to revisit. A lot.
That's not to say we don't love you, Brian, we do, and my gosh, you've been Mr TV Comfort Blanket this last week. Oh my, yes. But sometimes we wonder if were watching a Brian homage of the actual hand of Brian sometimes, like there was an episode of The Protectors that seemed to have been borrowed heavily in a episode of Hustle that was on the other week. That I'm pretty sure was homage, but sometimes, I'm just not sure.
But I miss Mr Spooner et al as well. My idea of classy tv. Oh yes, I've been wallowing in the ITC back catalogue of late. And loving it.
Other than that, not much. Just housework and moping. Lotsa moping. It's the little things. I was picqued by the stick that had remained stick for twelve years and I'd threatened stick to banishment down the back of the yard, but lo, stick suddenly burst into sweet, butter yellow flowers the day of my mother's funeral, transforming itself from useless stick to sacred tree in one fell swoop. My brother became verklempt over a long recalitrant plant that mother had declared would never flower in her lifetime, and sure enough.
It's just a wet winter after a long drought and a hot spring, but still.
Oh, I forgot to mention how I was still messing about with shoes when the car came to take us to the funeral, in a manner most unlike me. It was just that I discovered at the last minute, not having worn anything but comfy shoes of late that the heel had come right off my fave pair of boots, and I couldn't wear any court shoes, strappy shoes etc lest I trail bandages like Boris Karloff, the way I did on the way to the solititors, but I didn't want to wear my old Docs because I didn't want any 'still not married' quips followed up by one of those looks poor Havers gets on Inspector Lynley. Which left with the Jo Grant boots. Which would not zip up over my bandage. So I had to take it off (and after frelling my ankle again the previous day with the lawmn mowing). So there I was, in mile high boots with an unstrapped dodgy ankle. At least I looked suitably pained.
And I had my stoopid t-shirt, but I liked it.
Thanks for all the kind comments, btw. Means a lot.
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