Start with a clean grate
The BBQ is clean and stored for the winter. I’d done most of the job, last week, but there were still two grills that needed TLC. I ran out of excuses today, and so with a proper scraper, I removed enough flavour to start next summer with a clean grate. Slate. Whatever.
There was also a request to move the weather station display to another wall, and filled with energy, I measured and drilled and now the console is in a place where (it won’t interfere). The liberated space on the wall has already been promised, for a display of baby pictures. Not mine, but mine, if you get the nuance.
Had to make two trips outside to rescue the compost bin. High wind gusts. At least the recuperation phase (that’s where I wander up and down the ditch to recover articles that had been catapulted by the caprices of weather) was done without slipping into any standing water. Ice. The temperature has dropped, evidently.
The concession speech in that election from a couple of days back still hasn’t been offered. Someone should slip a note to the (loser) candidate in question. Denying reality won’t get you the keys to the executive washroom, nor the secret politician handshake. You lost: shake it off.
Delivery by courier. Should be good as gold, right. Or at least as good as a certified bank draft. Unless, the delivery is a bank draft. A family in Ontario is waiting on a delivery that has gone astray. Ten months and counting. And the amount in play? Almost a million dollars. The courier firm and the bank are denying responsibility (one has three letters in their business name, and they drive shit-brown trucks. The other has two and green machines).
… PR… Love it because it works. The previous paragraph is now voided.
