Blogger and/or the computer and/or the world wide web have been playing up a little the last day or so but I gave them a stern talking to and in spite of that they all appear to be functioning "normally" again, which means I can blog again. I sometime wonder what would happen if I stopped blogging. Would the earth keep spinning? Would the sun rise and set as per usual?
Would the stock market crash? Would Wayne Carey mend his ways?
Would anyone notice at all?
Not that I'm intending to stop. Whether anyone reads my blog or not, I still enjoy blogging and will keep going if only for my own amusement, but when I'm not able to blog for a couple of days I start to wonder if I could break the habit.
Rest assured dear reader, I'll still be here next time you come back, whenever that may be.
The staff returned to work on Thursday (the kids start again on Monday) and the whole computer network crashed today, not great timing considering all the admin stuff that has to be done at the start of a school year, not to mention the important emails I need to read.
Deprived of my PC I took up the challenge of cleaning my little fridge. I mean little, it's an ex-shop display fridge with Pepsi logos on it, just big enough to hold half a dozen bottles of water and a dozen cans, and my lunch. I bought it about 5-6 years ago and have never cleaned it in all that time. You'll be surprised to learn that there was quite a significant build up of mould. Hot soapy water and elbow grease saw most of it removed although Mrs Holt Press insists that despite it looking clean, there are still countless microscopic mould spores lurking inside and I should get rid of it and buy another one! Surely she jests! Does she think I'm made of money! Besides, it's a very cool little fridge, practically irreplaceable, and with new, clean polystyrene installed and most of the mould removed, it's gotta be good for at least another five years. I think Mrs HP has been watching too much House and CSI!
After work I put some finishing touches on my latest painting then headed into the night to drive the taxi. It was a fairly average night, the typical mix of party and pub goers and drunks, but three trips to Dunsborough and 1 to Bunbury made it reasonably profitable.
One young bloke who was already very drunk asked me if I thought he'd be able to get into the pub dressed the way he was. Not covered in vomit you won't I replied matter-of-factly!
He saw my point and decided to go home instead.