![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolMy iron is broken.
Well, buggar.
I'm on a bit of a cleaning kick, but it's too early to wander around with a hoover and there's no point in doing the kitchen before the breakfast/lunch stampede. So, I thought I'd do my ironing with my shiny iron from Tesco.
Ha. No joy. Can't even get it to turn on. And those who want to suggest that I haven't plugged it in can get stuffed, because I so have plugged the buggar in. Done that and all the stuff the instructions say to.
I'm slightly afraid to use the communal iron, because I suspect it is older than I am.
Hmmm. Oh well. I'm sure the creases will drop out if I just hang my clothes up.
This is very odd. It's 8.38am and I am wide awake, showered, and debating doing the cleaning. How peculiar.
I would like to say something wonderful and amazing and knowledgeable, but I'm still stuck on the fact my iron is broken. Curses.
... right. How do I take the ironing board down?
Oh, and Simon is coming to visit this weekend. In four and a bit hours, to be precise. I am unfeasibly excited about this. However, I will now resemble a scarecrow at the train station. Buggar again.
And may not be spamming at much this weekend as obviously that would be rude and stuff, just so you all know that I've not fallen into an alcoholic haze and died in a field somewhere in the Hebrides. I know you'd all worry. Especially![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
loneraven who seems to think that my liver is ready for the pickling.
Onwards to the kitchen!
[eta: the kitchen floor is sticky. This scares me immensely. Howeverr! Had, like, conversation with Salda! She offered me kippers! But I don't like kippers. Still, this is Progress.
And after my tea and toast, I am now absolutely shattered again. Hmmm. Back to bed?]
~Hathy_Col~
Well, buggar.
I'm on a bit of a cleaning kick, but it's too early to wander around with a hoover and there's no point in doing the kitchen before the breakfast/lunch stampede. So, I thought I'd do my ironing with my shiny iron from Tesco.
Ha. No joy. Can't even get it to turn on. And those who want to suggest that I haven't plugged it in can get stuffed, because I so have plugged the buggar in. Done that and all the stuff the instructions say to.
I'm slightly afraid to use the communal iron, because I suspect it is older than I am.
Hmmm. Oh well. I'm sure the creases will drop out if I just hang my clothes up.
This is very odd. It's 8.38am and I am wide awake, showered, and debating doing the cleaning. How peculiar.
I would like to say something wonderful and amazing and knowledgeable, but I'm still stuck on the fact my iron is broken. Curses.
... right. How do I take the ironing board down?
Oh, and Simon is coming to visit this weekend. In four and a bit hours, to be precise. I am unfeasibly excited about this. However, I will now resemble a scarecrow at the train station. Buggar again.
And may not be spamming at much this weekend as obviously that would be rude and stuff, just so you all know that I've not fallen into an alcoholic haze and died in a field somewhere in the Hebrides. I know you'd all worry. Especially
loneraven who seems to think that my liver is ready for the pickling.Onwards to the kitchen!
[eta: the kitchen floor is sticky. This scares me immensely. Howeverr! Had, like, conversation with Salda! She offered me kippers! But I don't like kippers. Still, this is Progress.
And after my tea and toast, I am now absolutely shattered again. Hmmm. Back to bed?]
~Hathy_Col~
