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caddymanBack from Finchley with new 'retro' toaster. I don't quite know what that means; does it only do retro toast and what is retro toast anyway? Should I only use bread I have to cut, or will it graciously tan sliced bread for me? I don't know and it is far too hot for me to be bothered to unbox the damned thing and try it out.
About ten days ago, our venerable toaster of esteemed and unknowable antiquity died in a puff of acrid white smoke. This was about a week after the charcoal crumbs of doom had been emptied out of it for the first time in living memory. That seemed to make sense at the time, but it increasingly seems that the toaster's entire raison d'étre had become to cherish these crumbs and shorn of this task, it just gave up the ghost: toasting simply wasn't enough for it any more.
Ah well, to all things an end.
I'm not entirely sure of the protocol for dispensing with elderly toasters. I strongly suspect that flushing it down the loo is impractical, but I have a feeling that the council will object to finding it in the rubbish bin. There are only two possible answers, therefore. I can either leave it on the kerb and set it free to wander the mean streets of London unheralded and unregarded: maybe it will meet up with the mattress of yore (see LJ entries passim), or I can do the obvious and drop it in next door's bin. That seems most sensible and an entirely humane fate for a toaster that has given sterling service these many years.
So, what else? Oh yes. The laundry has been laundered - though not as early as intended as the only thing not sweltering in heat around here this morning was the hot water tank. I ignited the remaining contents of the north sea gas fields under it just before lunch and just before I went to Finchley it was hot enough to do the laundry. So that's done.
Those few chores I can be arsed with are chored and I now intend to spend an unproductive hour or so lolloping on the bed listening to music. I may then return to the PC and watch some Stargate, having torrented that over night.
I seem to have lost the knack of days off.
(Why doesn't the spell checker like the word "kerb"?)
About ten days ago, our venerable toaster of esteemed and unknowable antiquity died in a puff of acrid white smoke. This was about a week after the charcoal crumbs of doom had been emptied out of it for the first time in living memory. That seemed to make sense at the time, but it increasingly seems that the toaster's entire raison d'étre had become to cherish these crumbs and shorn of this task, it just gave up the ghost: toasting simply wasn't enough for it any more.
Ah well, to all things an end.
I'm not entirely sure of the protocol for dispensing with elderly toasters. I strongly suspect that flushing it down the loo is impractical, but I have a feeling that the council will object to finding it in the rubbish bin. There are only two possible answers, therefore. I can either leave it on the kerb and set it free to wander the mean streets of London unheralded and unregarded: maybe it will meet up with the mattress of yore (see LJ entries passim), or I can do the obvious and drop it in next door's bin. That seems most sensible and an entirely humane fate for a toaster that has given sterling service these many years.
So, what else? Oh yes. The laundry has been laundered - though not as early as intended as the only thing not sweltering in heat around here this morning was the hot water tank. I ignited the remaining contents of the north sea gas fields under it just before lunch and just before I went to Finchley it was hot enough to do the laundry. So that's done.
Those few chores I can be arsed with are chored and I now intend to spend an unproductive hour or so lolloping on the bed listening to music. I may then return to the PC and watch some Stargate, having torrented that over night.
I seem to have lost the knack of days off.
(Why doesn't the spell checker like the word "kerb"?)