Unashamedly Late

More photos from Tuesdays stagger up to Ruchill flagpole. I love these, I'm utterly unashamed to admit. Sod it, I don't blow me own trumpet nearly often enough. Since Tuesday all it's done is blow a fucking gale though. And piss down something rotten. Tomorrows meant to be better so I'm told. We'll see........... The old dear that lives above me has trouble turning on her gas fire so I've been commandeered to turn it on for her. She's a bit arthritic so she can't turn the thing on, which is a bit of a bitch since the only people I know who have such fires are OAP's. Why is that? Are they designed to be owned but never turned on? Her flat is like a ruddy wind tunnel and quite frankly a wee gas fire and a hot water bottle can only keep you so warm. It's a few years since her hubby passed on and her family who used to live up there are al laway. She's got virtually no memory from one week to the next which is in equal parts amusing and distressing. Every time I come to her door I feel like I'm introducing myself for the first time. Anyway, we have a signal system going now. I hear her trying to turn the thing on late afternoon, I give her a phone to see if she's got it on, I go up, turn it on and she slips me a £2 coin. I know the worst thing to do in that situation is refuse the cash but all I'm doing is turning her fire on................. I know, pensions burning a hole in their pockets.................

So I got nowt done today. I had intended on getting a few things done, as well as visiting the Peoples Palace on Glasgow Green. One look out the window told me that even going to the supermarket might be a tall order. The day was idled away playing an ancient driving simulator I found lurking in the bowels of my PC. Oddly enough it was more fun than floating aimlessly about the internet all day. Fancy that............. Anyway, please go here, here and here to be otherwise entertained.

Bonsoir mes enfants!