Mr L came back to bed this morning with an armful of packages that had just arrived in the post. I was envious. I rarely get parcels in the post. It seems that, you know, you actually have to buy stuff. The recent flurry of spending was nice and it did bring goodies for me to open but now I have the bug and am pining for packages. So, I think I may do some shopping later.
Only…
… I can’t think of anything that I actually need. Except for a new whistle for the camping kettle.
There was a time when you could just pop into Woollies to buy a kettle whistle – believe me, I know because that was my counter when I had a Saturday job in Woollies. Actually, I ran two counters and was in weekend charge of not only the household plastics (washing up bowls, buckets etc.) but also the pots and pans and china goods. Remember white pudding basins and blue and white hooped china bowls and mugs? All mine. A brown teapot? Yup. That was me. Wooden spoons, likewise. And whistling kettles and spare whistles.
I digress.
One of Mr L’s goodies today was not unrelated to the desired whistle.
It’s a toaster gizmo for Brunhilde’s kitchen, to enable breakfast toast. That’ll be good.
Treacle was poorly yesterday and Mr L took him to visit the vet. Loaded with steroids and antibiotics, the wee chap is feeling much better now. It’s just as well as Teddy has been feeling Treacle’s absence and was very down in the dumps himself yesterday.
Okeydokey. I think I’ll just wind 800 grams of yarn
and then I shall see about buying myself a nice camera rucksack.
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