It would appear that I was simply a little premature when I noted that the ducks had gone global. Today a parcel arrived from Germany and my spider senses were alerted. I was not about to get fooled again so I studied the packaging for clues. The addition of hearts in the word Shanklin must mean it was from somebody who loves Shanklin, and it was hand written indicating that it was not direct from a supplier.
Oh and the return address was written on it! Thank you to the lovely Claudia and Kurt for my German care package (ducks travel best with snacks and alcohol). So now the ducks truly are international and not a moment too soon. Karen and Kerry ducks have formed a huddle since it is both of their birthdays and I have had to task CB duck with keeping an eye on sausage duck as he still seems a little wobbly despite his alleged abstinence.
It is nice to have some fresh company at the bar:
In other news I remain as dumb as ever, well not so much dumb more that I retain an intransigence with regard to my welfare. I note this because yesterday, whilst standing on a small stool to paint something, I realised that something was blocking my way. To be clear one leg of the stool was on something so it was wobbly and I was balancing a paint tray so it was all rather precarious (as usual).
In fact it took some effort to kick the step ladder out of the way, who would leave stuff like that lying around? It’s hard enough balancing on a stool without idiots leaving the proper kit in the way. So to everyone that has ever worked with me you can rest assured that I maintain my pikey ways and my golden rules: never do it the safe way if there is a quick way and every item you wear (including your skin) is there to wipe whatever chemical needs wiping.
The battle continues with Henry who remains argumentative at best and often downright malicious. Yesterday I was rehanging a heavy door which is awkward because the closer has to be kept restrained or it damages the wall behind it. I had the screws in my pocket ready and lifted the door with the aid of a lifter, screw lined up I realised my error… no screwdriver.
The screwdriver was on a stool in front of the bar that I could just reach with my foot rather than setting the door down again (remember speed over safety always). I managed to hook the stool and pull it towards me with my foot but Henry decided to get in the way. After some shouting and a not insignificant amount of flailing I managed to land a deft kick at the little black hated bastard to clear him from the stools path.
Oh no Henry wasn’t having it was he? wrapping himself behind the stool for protection he ran his cable around the feet to present a barrier to the stools progress. Now I had to slide the stool slowly to prevent it toppling whilst yelling at the grinning red idiot to get out of the way all whilst balancing a door and restraining a hydraulic closer.
Thankfully success favours the bold and I managed to collect the screwdriver and fit the door. Whilst I was working Henry was cowering behind the stool with even Kerry duck ignoring him, I don’t care what people say they know when they have done wrong. My revenge was sweet though when, this morning, it fell upon Henry to clean the log burner out after its recent ‘recycling’ burn. It is turning into a real battle of wills but I will prevail.
Just for those who have asked, lock down is going well with good progress and long days helping to maintain my sanity.