randomrabbit's Diaryland Diary
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I have no patience for his elk
It�s too nice a day - I should be sat in my garden with a book, sneezing and trying to chew off my face to stop it itching, instead of being stuck at work, sneezing and trying to chew off my face to stop it itching and sporting the world�s sweatiest arse crack. If by catch it, bin it, kill it when you sneeze they mean: wipe the worst of the gob off your monitor with your thumb, then yay I�m doing my bit for not passing on germs.
I�d open a window to cool down but we have Bob�s Asbestos Removalers in sorting out our roof so a) they�re a bit noisy and surly and b) I�m trying not to get asbestosis as the old panels are being lowered down past my window. I read the health and safety bumf they gave us, which tells us what they�re going to do to make sure they don�t fall off the roof and how they�re not going to drop heavy things on our heads, but nothing on how they�re going to safely remove a hazardous material. It�s in cement so safer than the nasty stuff, but still apparently should be damped down before moving and kept undamaged so as not to create any dust. So whacking the bolts out of it with a lump hammer like a fucking posessed pikey while people were in the warehouse probably wasn't strictly by the book. I�m just extra paranoid about stuff like that but no one else seems to give much of a shit to be honest.
I commandeered my windowsill at work, in as much as you can commandeer something that�s yours and freely available, to expand my veg (fruit?) growing. 3 tomatoes and 3 peppers and at the moment they seem to be doing ok. The ones at home aren�t faring so well though. I get to play a game when I get in from work called �What�s Died Today� and hope it�s not a chicken. They were carrots I had growing. The little grass like fork shoots I was unsure about all turned feathery and were then all eaten by slugs. These are my new number one enemy, ascending nightly as they do from the slimy recesses of hell on their mono-foot, which I�m sure technically means that they hop, to eat my fucking cucumbers. Hedgehogs apparently are the best for getting rid of them, but short of an armed blag on a Tiggywinkle�s Wildlife Hospital I�m a bit buggered there so I'm going to have to make do with more beer traps and going out with a torch in the wee small hours and thwocking the little shits with a spade.
4:11 p.m. - 2009-07-02
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