Dead Iron, Deadweight Logs

Here’s the latest set of stamps issued by the Royal Mail. Or is it the Post Office? I never know what to call it these days, the service that collects the post from the red boxes and then delivers it to wherever it is going, hopefully without too much diversion or delay. Anyway, aren’t they a lovely set...

I especially like the carder bee one, but then I have a huge soft spot for bumbles. I’d have one for a pet if I thought Bambino wouldn’t attempt to have it on toast for elevenses.

My iron died this morning. I had a modest pile of ironing to do, wouldn’t take long. So I made a Ninja dash to the supermarket for the minimal weekly shop, came home, made scrambled eggs on toast for breakfast and then thought, right, get this ironing done and out of the way. No such chance. Plugged it in. Dead as the fox I passed on my way home from the supermarket, lying prone on the grass verge, poor thing. 

Now, I don’t know how old this iron is, but it did have an old fashioned plug on it, you know, the ones from Ye Olden Dayes that you could take off and fiddle about with the insides. Out of interest, I checked the year when moulded plugs (i.e the ones stuck forever on the cord, so that once the plug dies, so does your appliance) became law and it was 1994! Well, I was rather surprised about that. Surely my iron couldn’t be in excess of 26 years old? I mean, it could well be because I don’t have a history of obsessive iron purchasing, nor can I remember the last time I DID buy an iron. Thinking back, because what else have I had to do with my time today, I can only remember owning 3 irons since I left home at the age of 19 - a stainless steel and black one which was lightweight and required a huge amount of muscle to make it even vaguely effective because it was non-steam, then the one I had before this one which was rather cumbersome and prone to leaking, and then this one, now deceased. Perhaps, then, this iron is 26+ years old. If so, bravo! If not, who cares? 

But it did mean I had to go out AGAIN to buy a new iron. I went to Argos, and was in and out within 2 minutes, despite the confusing ‘avoid the germs’ layout. I bought the equivalent model to the dead one, which transpired to be a violent pink that clashes terribly with my sensibilities. And then I nipped into Lidl, because I wanted to make the most of the unplanned trip, and purchased a sack of potatoes, a box of washing powder and some prawns. And some batteries. Came home. Did the ironing. 

And then the Blazers fire logs delivery arrived. 96 bags of 5 logs per bag = 1 tonne of stuff to shift. The delivery company (who were supposed to warn us of the delivery time but didn’t) were unable to drag the pallet over the new raised kerb that the council installed when they resurfaced the road back in Spring. The trolley lift was wholly inadequate to the job. So the driver left the pallet where it stood, which was half on the driveway and half out into the road. Which meant Andy and I had to remove the 96 bags of logs from the pallet and onto the drive as quickly as we could so the traffic obstruction was cleared before either of us got killed by the lunatic Audi drivers who frequent the road at speed. 

And once we had done that, we had to move the 96 bags AGAIN, up the drive and across the courtyard, to their new home in the woodshed. My goodness, but that was a workout and a half! Made me feel quite wobbly, it did, which reinforced the idea I really do need to up the exercise ante.

However, we now have enough fuel for the wood burner to last all Winter! And I won’t have to keep going in and out of B & M buying 5 bags of the things at a time. If they have them in stock, that is. 

Hurrah! 

(P.S I hope you stay dry this weekend. I hear we are in for a national soaking. Lids off the water butts, and all that!)