Oh great.
My car is in a reasonably low tax bracket, I get about 40mpg and it is a low emissions vehicle (according to the garage which MoT'd it). Yet it still gets lumped into the "evil gas guzzling Chelsea Tractor" bracket by people.
Gah.
So anyway. Teenagers. They sleep a lot, don't they? And they don't say much, do they?
When I think back (a long, long way back) to when I was 14, I remember being cheerful and outgoing, chatty and sociable, sunny in nature and willing, if not eager, to help out around the house. The rest of my family might remember me differently, but they're all wrong.
Eldest Niece and Mr WithaY went to Bournemouth yesterday to check out the Aquarium*. Apparently it was a bit disappointing, but there was plenty of wildlife on the beach, by all accounts. And they had a nice lunch in an Italian restaurant, so it wasn't a wasted trip.
Eldest Niece came home with a temporary tattoo, a present from her doting uncle.
I had to go to work, which entailed a 70 mile round trip in the car to the office for a morning meeting, driving back past the house, then an hour train ride in the opposite direction to the Bristol office for another meeting in the afternoon. I was exhausted when I got home.
Still, off work today and Monday, so a nice long weekend. If the weather picks up a bit we might have a barbecue or something.
My plans for today involve trying to replace a fuse in the plug of my clothes dryer thingy. Not a tumble dryer, one of those clothes rail things that gets warm so you can hang stuff on it when it's too wet to put outside on the line.
We've only had it 12 years. Tch. Already broken.
The mole is still there, incidentally. He keeps going quiet so we think he's gone, but then the next day we see loads of fresh tunnels all over the lawn.
Bastard.
Our next door neighbours had a mole in their back garden, so I asked them how they got rid of it.
They tried poison (no luck), smoke grenades(unsuccessful), traps (failed) and the sonic repeller (disappointing). I asked how they finally got rid of the little blighter.
Apparently, they waited very quietly by a molehill till they saw movement and then dispatched it with a garden fork.
So, maybe Mr WithaY's low-tech longbow arrow might be the best solution after all.
*Like I said, she's having the time of her life with us.
2 comments:
see? i remember being a sulky right bastard when i was 14.. i pray my son isnt the same way.
Well, at least you have the benefit of years of wisdom to pass onto him. Heh
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