Helena Handbasket

By Tivoli

Chatham pier, as seen from the opposite bank

at lunchtime.

I'm not really sure where to begin with this. I still have lots of unanswered emails from when I moved into the flat, but I'm kinda hoping that people who care enough are following this for updates, because I have been a bit too busy to do very much in terms of individual responses, and anyway, blip is fun :-)

So this is a bit of an end-of-the-week and end-of-the-month catch-up.

At work I have managed to get sign-off from several landfill site surveys, which is quite an achievement in itself, assisted in part by some carefully-worded wheedling to those who know the sites intimately. The new hyperlink, devised by my line manager and illustrated by me, should prove to be a bonus in this respect. One landfill site remains at large, which, frustratingly, is the one eagerly awaited by the Environment Agency, but we don't want to frighten them with any displays of expertise – heaven forbid! The person in loco parentis of that particular outfit is famously sceptical about experts.

Meanwhile, my big map of all our interests throughout the UK is coming along nicely. So far I have mapped everything north of the invisible line between the Severn and the Wash and all is functioning as it should – including icons for glass, paper, plastic and dead electrical, as well as sites where electricity is generated from banana skins, or separately, from the black goo that lurks in the bottom of wheelie bins.

In addition, I have managed to convince senior management that West Sussex and Hampshire belong in the same corral as Kent, and not Cornwall.

At home I have finally resorted to putting a bit of heating on and have come to the conclusion that the tiled bathroom floor really is a bit chilly. When I first viewed this flat in late September, somebody had left a rolled-up rug in the niche at the foot of the stairs where my bicycle fits perfectly out of everybody's way. I even rolled up the rug more carefully to provide more space. The rug has remained in situ ever since and I now know that its former owner has no plans for its future. It is red and I do not like red, but this evening I brought it up the stairs to take a better look at it. It could do with a clean, but if I am brave enough to cut it then it is just large enough to provide me with a non-slippy surface all up the storcase as well as a non-cold covering for the bathroom floor. I'm thinking fluffy red side up for the steps and oatmealy woven side up in the bathroom, but I need to make that decision before I attack it with a craft knife.

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