Like a Log

ALL THAT HASSLE AND WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT: a bus runs from as close to my old road as a bus can get right to the end, a few houses away from my new one. All that five-minute traipsing and changing bus was in vain!

Last night I returned to the old dump to remove the last of my papers and socks. (Little bits of stuff and rubbish everywhere.)

I fully cleaned and excavated. (As fully as I could do by a 40watt equivalent energy bulb and with one Cillit Bang spray and two sponges.)

A downside of cooking in one's bedroom was that when I had cause to move out I used the bed as a packing area. The mattress has now taken an entire leaking bottle of soy sauce. It looks like I've diarrhoea'd it and stinks. (Of soy sauce, thankfully ~ not diarrhoea.)

O man! The effort of trundling the last of my stuff at 1am last night right along my own road and up... missed the one night bus that would have got me directly there by a "so near yet so far" 30 seconds (impossible, of course, to run). So had to wait on a deserted highroad with humungous suitcase and outsize tartan washing bag bursting with odd socks and trailing scarves along the pavement...

Still I found myself leaving a few books and sundry things. These are piled by the door with a note to the landlords promising to return by midday today to remove them and "finish cleaning". (As if that job will ever be finished in there!!)

Of course I get back (after half an hour nervously smoking with said trailing possessions by the main road). Cannot sleep and so have endless chocolate milkshake and Turkish pide with jajeek (cacik) dip. Which is my way of saying tsatsiki: the yoghurt-garlic-mint-&-cucumber dip I can never pronounce.

When I finally did get to sleep I slept like a fallen tree. For hours. And hours. And hours. Right round the clock. Long past midday. (Well my landlord could phone me if those books are such a problem.) To 6pm. And woke up feeling like the second day of a skiing holiday ~ ie acheing all over.

I did Sainsbury's tonight (far better choice of stuffed pasta than Tescos). Am looking forward to dinner of Basics Mushroom Tortelloni (£1.59 for 600g) and broccoli sprinkled with Sage Derby gratings: yumm!

MUSIC:
ENYA'S "HOW CAN I KEEP FROM SINGING"

This tune, as featured in this year's Xmas campaign for posh nosh supermarket Waitrose.

Here's the Waitrose ad (1 min)
I love this ad. I think it's really well done. Enchanting...



Here's Enya's official (rarely seen) promo video for the track. The Ireland here looks almost identical to rural Wales. Wales tends not to have churches though, it has some rather Eastern-looking "chapels"...

But what is meant to be going on at 0:54 secs: through the car window (woman reading paper "Kuwait is free" but something very little and easily palmed is passed through.) Is this my dirty mind, or was that meant to be a drugs deal?



Here are shots from the Hubble Space Telescope set to the same tune:~