Date: Thursday 30th July 2020
Location: Northwood Nr Wem on the Welsh border
WARNING: DEALS WITH THEMES OF A PREHISTORIC NATURE WHICH MAY BE OFFENSIVE TO OLD FOSSILS
Up at 05.30 this morning. Amazing isn’t it? The long struggle trying to get back into a work routine, trying this idea and that idea this method and that method and even enlisting Rachael’s help to get me out of my pit (as well as encourage me to go out for exercise). Yet since I made the decision to do blogging full time I can hardly wait to get started.
12.30 pm
I’m sitting outside Hymie. The awning is pulled down and I’m resting my butt on a dark green self-erecting (now that's a sex toy worth having) picnic chair. It didn’t figure in my plans but working inside is a non starter; the heat is unbearable, I'm sweltering in the humidity and there’s no air (probably because most of it is on my head). Why haven’t I gone to the hairdresser? It’s not like they’re still shut. The dumb thing was I had to go out this morning to replace stuff that usually runs out midweek; bread, milk, biscuits, laptop and so on. I also treated myself to a sandwich toaster (it will supplement her student expenses). I could have gone to Whitchurch for a mop chop but I didn’t - well you know how I feel about hairdressers - sitting there counting the number of new wrinkles, liver spots, skin tags and grimacing at myself through a layer of designer stubble - good job I'm not a cornfield.
I continue to write for an hour or so then get lunch. Got it in one!! You knew I was going to do a toasty didn’t you? I was sceptical when I bought it because the last time I bought one I think I lived on toasties for about three weeks. After that I chucked it in the back of a cupboard where it stayed until I binned it. But I’m trying to find alternatives to gas cooking. It was only eight squid so if it ends up in the bin again there's no harm done. Next on the agenda is a 12v kettle because I can’t imagine what it’s costing me to make tea 6-8 times a day.
ENTER THE MAN-KAT
My mental meanderings are suddenly interrupted by the blast of an airhorn. It's immediately followed by the sound of heavy rumbling as though the heavens were about to rain fire and brimstone or that we had become host to a second occurrence of Krakatoa - not that I'm aware of any active volcanoes in Wales. Just as I was thinking that that didn’t make sense because outside is grass as far as the eye can see up rolled the biggest motorhome I’ve ever set eyes on - the Man-Kat 8 wheel drive custom designed Goliath. Wowsers talk about a head turner! I bet there are people with neck injuries caused by looking at this magnificent piece of kit! I remember now, Sean mentioned it last week. It’s a motorhome he was going to convert himself but the job went elsewhere for one reason or another. I remember he showed me a video of it in action. It was being bought here to have some work done on it - additional LED lights I believe?
For some reason I didn’t immediately rush round and have a look at the vehicle - I think due to a mixture of listlessness from the heat and that I had done very little work. None of it was helped by the fact that earnings from the Amazon Affiliate ads I had linked to my website had so far earned the grand total of - nothing. It wasn’t surprising, the website that was hooked up to Amazon was moho4life.com the new website. Call it tunnel vision, lack of business sense or something else entirely but I felt that I should get the new site up and running properly instead of just throwing it live online. That meant all links working, adverts ready to go and all blog posts in place which (Amazon Adverts aside) currently total over 200 - enough material for a book - probably two.
Around 22.00 and there’s a knock - most likely my knees at this hour. Sean asks if I want to see the Man-Kat. I’m torn between a freshly made cup of tea, reclining in my favourite armchair (the passenger side captains seat) or settling down to watch what might be a good nature program called 'Babewatch' (probably about small farm animals or something) which for some reason isn't on until 2.30 am. It's also getting rather dark. The Man-Kat won so I locked my door, opened it again when I realised I should be on the other side of it then went to have a closer look.
It looked even more imposing stood next to it - even more so when Hugh switched on the external LED lighting. Sean noticed my interest as I stared up at this tyrannosaurus of a road vehicle and suggested a look around the inside. I’m not usually in favour of guided tours around living accommodation. I mean - what's there to see but variations on a theme? On top of this you're then expected to make fervent comments on a par with a four year old expecting a water pistol for his birthday and getting a Playstation instead. I really am rubbish at this - women seem to fair much better. It's not that I don't try to think of things it's just that unless I can make a substantial comment I don't see the point. Instead I just have a blank expression. Usually I get comments like "are you OK?, "you didn't understand that did you?" or "are you bored?"
What to do? There’s only so many “ooh’s and “ah’s” you can produce when looking around rooms we are all familiar with."Oh my word those taps in the kitchen have hot and cold running water!" "Well that will certainly save sending the kids on a 3 mile trek o the river" or"Oh I say this room is absolutely gorgeous! You have a toilet!? Amazing - you can actually crap inside the house? good heavens at our first place we had to pee out the window and shit behind a tree" “Oh I say now this is using your imagination - you’ve arranged the TV so it can be seen from the settee !" "Bi-gum Mavis never thought of that did we? "In our house we have the settee on top of a bookshelf and take turns to watch TV through a periscope"
Back outside Ali was taking photos during one of her rare public appearances, Julie, one of the owners was bringing beers from the Man-Kat and Sean and Hugh (the other owner) were talking politics, (Donald Trump is a genius - which is the first I've heard), motorhomes and caravan parks, (Sean is building one and Hugh already owns one) and how a few years ago if you bought a potato is was probably grown by Hugh who made his money from spuds! The original Mr Potato Head!
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