Hot Saturday

We went for a walk early. Hot day forecast. 33 degrees. I always find it nice to go for a walk on a day that threatens to cook you later. You can almost sense the forbidding in the breeze.

We ate hash browns and pressed sandwiches for lunch, with the house shut down against the heat by that stage. They were very nice.

I'm watching my favourite car YouTube channel, getting his 1968 Buick LeSabre back on the road.

Sam is asleep on the big couch.

The bulldogs have flaked.

All I can hear is the whirr of the dual fans blowing air in each of our direction.

Sam said to get the washing out of the machine once it was done, before he passed out, and as chance would have it, I remembered to do that, so cheers for me. It wasn’t your usual jocks and shirts, no, it was the shower curtain and a whole bunch of bulldog face wipe towels – if you had a bulldog, you’d understand. WTF? So, I pulled that all out of the machine, but the plastic shower curtain had somehow managed to retain a whole bunch of water, like a fat girl explaining her weight, which poured all over the floor in front of the washing machine, which I really was not expecting, and as our laundry is a double cupboard in the front hallway, that really wasn’t ideal. I did manage, however, to whoosh the shower curtain sideways, as it pissed on the floor like an elephant taking a leak, and water several of the plants in the hallway with the excess water, which mitigated the mess somewhat. There was still a large pool of water, however. The towels were heavy wet too from the retained water off the shower curtain, so it all weighed a ton and dripped like a prossy after a very busy Saturday night. So, I got the washing basket and a clothes horse and took all of that outside, somehow not waking Sam in the process, which was the miracle of the day. (You know how things like clothes horses mysteriously grow extra legs to catch on doorways when you are trying to be quiet) And, of course, Otto wanted to know what it all was, sticking his great fat, uninvited face into the middle of it all, wanting to sniff and lick everything just to investigate all of it further, as I tried to straighten it all out and get it hung out to dry. I looked at him and said, Daddy’s little fucken helper, which I never say to them, really having no idea where that came from. So, once I’d admonished myself sufficiently, I headed back inside and mopped the tiled floor of the huge puddle of water.

Ah, back to the couch and YouTube.

Later, I would sleep for 3 hours on the couch myself, only being woken by the bulldogs wrestling next to me, having slept all day, I guess they had energy to burn up. I was none too pleased about the intrusion. They were somewhat taken aback by my sharp rebuke.