A Mind like Mousetrap Cheese

Happy Friday!

Today Follower Fiona told us that for the last 3 days, the charity bucket in the foyer of Bud's workplace had a load of Lego kits in original boxes. The plan was, remove them all and compensate the bucket with banknotes in an envelope. However the delay in retransmitting the vital intelligence report meant that the charity van had taken the bucket away 30 minutes before my retrieval agent got there. I guess our minds just turn to Swiss cheese as we get old, lucky that'll never happen to me. And no, you can never have enough Lego.

Speaking of which, in Libya back in 1975 I referred to the cheese in the Tripoli Grand Hotel as 'mouse-trap' cheese, as you do. They all thought I meant 'Cheese of low quality and value that is fit only for a mousetrap', whereas I clearly meant the cheese with holes in it, like Mr Jerry Mouse always eats. Thus simple misunderstandings can span generations.

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After school it was the time I had been waiting for. Our 3 bedroom doors had been stripped of their 9 layers of legacy paint at "Strip Joint" so we got all squashed up in the car again and giggled our way through town with yet another door for him. On the way we passed Fawcett Road which is a perfectly good road with many second-hand shops for Studentland and tattoo parlours and shops to help people smoke herbs or buy wines of distinction. In fact it has a pub called the Fawcett Inn which makes the olds laugh, they once sold a fizzy beverage called "Fawcett Inn Cider", why they find that funny I shall never know.

Anyway, I am not yet fully literate so pronounced it "Fawkitt" and thought this was so funny I wound down my window and shouted fawket fawket fawket in a variety of perilously close accents at all the nice citizenry with their lengthy tattoos and green dyed hair. At the door place we exchanged 1 for 3 (and £75) and I investigated one of his store-rooms and we got even more squished up for the return journey. The reclaimed doors do look rather good, actually. I'm looking forward to having a bedroom door again.

After swimming (Leyton from school has joined my swimming group, but only as a red hat. This means he is a swimming beginner, not some kind of cyberspace operative.

I hope that his surname is Buzzard or Stone or Orient) we picked Jof up and started painting. We had to do the ceiling and wall above the stairwell so we rigged up the 2 ladders plus a couple of planks thing (yes, we were the couple of planks) and I did some rollering without plunging into the 9-foot void below.
The builders have finished plastering at last and have done the banisters and the floorboards don't shift under your slippers any more and it's practically the Ritz.
Later, he painted, Jof cleaned everything in sight and I cleaned my own room!