I’m freezing. Just looked and it is 17.1c in the house. That’s about 63f. Too cold for me, I turned on the heat. It’s nasty outside: windy, rainy and cold. Probably won’t be walking The Queen today. Our house faces the mountain, and I can’t see it at all. Never a good sign. I use the mountain like the old joke Indian Weather Rock: if invisible, fog or rain for at least the next half hour. It hides quite often this time of year.
So… they ripped up the old metal cattle-weighing scale in the town square last week. It took five county council workers and a backhoe to dig it out and fill in the hole. Sad to see it go; my hubby remembers the last cattle market. They docked the cows’ horns there, and the streets ran with blood in the gutters, while the poor cows screamed. Not the nicest memory, but still something that should have perhaps been preserved.
There’s going to be ‘some sculptures’ put into the hole, and I saw one of them this morning on a flatbed truck. It was on its back and bubble wrapped too much to tell what it is. Sort of looked like a short brown Gandalf with a gnarled stick instead of a staff. Sort of odd that there’s no talk about what is happening in such a small town as this, with such a big gossip-mill. I guess whoever got paid to make said ‘sculptures’ is the only one who really cares.
They are also putting up the strings for the Christmas lights. The same old strings they put up every year. It takes five men and a scissor lift truck (I had to Google a bunch of shite to figure out what it was called) to put them up all down the town.
Anyhoo, they are putting up the strings. Not the strings with the bulbs attached, oh no. Just the strings. They’ve been at it all week, tying up traffic, these five county council workers. And pretty soon they’ll get to go back and put the bulbs in, one by one.
This is why I can’t get a job. I’m not lazy enough.
Nothing to do with the heavy sarcasm, nah.