Sunday, Is Of Course, Cleaning Day. Let Us Not Forget

I got up early, of course, as is my want. Well, strictly speaking it is not my want at all, damn early rising. And he rose up on the third day.

I re-wrote yesterday’s blog. I do that a lot, go back and completely rewrite. I got that done early.

Sunday, Is Of Course, Cleaning Day. Let Us Not Forget.

Being Sunday, Easter, or not, it is cleaning day. You know the drill! Zieg heil! Zieg heil!

Is that offensive because of Easter? You know, the Jewish connection.

Just a minute, if the Jews believe in the Old Testament, surely, they do not celebrate Easter.

No connection, hopeful look, not offensive.

It's just that it is cleaning day, at my place, and we all know that means Sam turns into a Sergeant Major.

Good thing, I have done my chores. Oh, get it done and get it done early is my mantra. It is an easy way to avoid cleaning grief,

Sam's fingers stop twitching when all the chores were done.

Must go and empty the bag. Well, strictly there is no bag, what can I say, it is bagless. I must empty the 'goddam thang' before Sam gets onto me... um... er... about... ah... that.

One can only sit outside in one's tranquil garden one's laptop writing nonsense, for so long... eyebrows up... after all.

Lunch was Indian in the CBD.

Then a sniff around EB Games, bought a 3D dinosaur movie for the PS4. A couple of t-shirts in Big W. A mosey around Harvey Norman, looking at a new couch, which we are not getting, and a bigger TV, which I could soften on. And, of course, the Asian grocer to finish off. Drama of the day, Chinese cabbage.

The afternoon is sparkling, sun shining down with dapple light falling to the ground. Sam falls asleep on the couch. Buddy snores between my legs, under the coffee table.