Layabout
Having spent the past couple of days being moderately productive, I was already planning a chill-out day today. It's lucky I didn't have anything energetic planned: after a second restless night I wasn't up to doing much.
I'd reclaimed my own bed, which should have helped. What didn't help is my new neighbours in the front flat choosing to thump about until 3am. I have no idea what they were doing (moving furniture, or something?) and no doubt they were completely unaware of how much noise they were making.
For reasons unknown, I have had The Mutton Birds 'Dominion Rd' persistently circling my brain for the past several days. My inability to banish this tiresome ohrwurm, coupled with sporadic thunks and clangs through the garage wall, was enough to drive me completely loopy. Still, I didn't have to get up for work. I resolved to sleep as late into the morning as I could.
This moderate ambition was foiled by the earth shaking me awake shortly before 8am, to the magnitude of 4.3, centred just a few km away. At one time I was accustomed to this sort of thing, but the quakes are few and far between these days. Just an occasional reminder that solid ground is perhaps less solid than we'd like to think.
Unable to drop back to sleep, I chose to spend the morning sitting in bed reading. That is, until I fumbled a not-quite-empty coffee cup and had to strip the top sheet off and add it to the spare room bedding already in the wash.
Apart from finishing yet another detective story (of course it was the plausible Australian) I managed few activities of note. I did some washing, cleaned off a mucky windowsill, inexpertly tidied my neglected eyebrows, and collected fallen feijoas from under the tree with a rake.
By way of novelty, I actually had reason to use my car, albeit briefly. I dropped off a small package to a friend who was suffering under the dire baking powder shortage. This may seem borderline under lockdown rules, but delivering groceries to people who can't get them is allowed (as long as there's no contact). Admittedly, it's probably just as well I didn't get stopped: I wouldn't want to arouse suspicion with my little bag of white powder!
So all in all, nothing much to report. I don't even have any photos to include. I've ensconced myself on the couch for the evening, to watch TV and work on The Fluffy Thing, (about which more to come) and hopefully will be in bed and sleeping soundly at a reasonable hour.
In a half-way house, half-way down Dominion rooooaaad (thump).
I'd reclaimed my own bed, which should have helped. What didn't help is my new neighbours in the front flat choosing to thump about until 3am. I have no idea what they were doing (moving furniture, or something?) and no doubt they were completely unaware of how much noise they were making.
For reasons unknown, I have had The Mutton Birds 'Dominion Rd' persistently circling my brain for the past several days. My inability to banish this tiresome ohrwurm, coupled with sporadic thunks and clangs through the garage wall, was enough to drive me completely loopy. Still, I didn't have to get up for work. I resolved to sleep as late into the morning as I could.
This moderate ambition was foiled by the earth shaking me awake shortly before 8am, to the magnitude of 4.3, centred just a few km away. At one time I was accustomed to this sort of thing, but the quakes are few and far between these days. Just an occasional reminder that solid ground is perhaps less solid than we'd like to think.
Unable to drop back to sleep, I chose to spend the morning sitting in bed reading. That is, until I fumbled a not-quite-empty coffee cup and had to strip the top sheet off and add it to the spare room bedding already in the wash.
Apart from finishing yet another detective story (of course it was the plausible Australian) I managed few activities of note. I did some washing, cleaned off a mucky windowsill, inexpertly tidied my neglected eyebrows, and collected fallen feijoas from under the tree with a rake.
By way of novelty, I actually had reason to use my car, albeit briefly. I dropped off a small package to a friend who was suffering under the dire baking powder shortage. This may seem borderline under lockdown rules, but delivering groceries to people who can't get them is allowed (as long as there's no contact). Admittedly, it's probably just as well I didn't get stopped: I wouldn't want to arouse suspicion with my little bag of white powder!
So all in all, nothing much to report. I don't even have any photos to include. I've ensconced myself on the couch for the evening, to watch TV and work on The Fluffy Thing, (about which more to come) and hopefully will be in bed and sleeping soundly at a reasonable hour.
In a half-way house, half-way down Dominion rooooaaad (thump).
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