Manãna

It was one of those days when everything went wrong except the weather, and for once the bright sunshine after a frosty night wasn't enough to tip the balance. I went off into town after a busy, pleasant morning to do some hardware shopping, and I seemed to get what I needed. Short, stubby screwdriver for getting into tight spaces - tick; radiator key - tick; strong picture hook for wayward mirror - tick; vent hose adaptor for tumble drier - apparently tick. But no, that last one was a cross. The man in the shop assured me it was what I wanted, but bleeding knuckles and slightly damaged hose later I knew I shouldn't have believed him. Annoyingly, not only does the adaptor not adapt but the 3 metre hose I thought would suffice isn't long enough to go out of the window. Well, it is, but there's not a lot of give. I identified the extra piece I need on the internet and have ordered it. So not a disaster, but irritating.

After that I pottered about in the garden, putting another couple of slabs in position with the others, and generally checking and looking at stuff. It's one of the things I do best, looking. The level in the pond was high again so I thought I'd just quickly pump some out. It didn't work. I tried everything, including putting the pump in a bucket of water to see if it was moving any water, and it wasn't. I only bought it at the beginning of December and have used it three times. But I can't remember where I bought it from. I found it on the internet but actually ordered it by phone. There must be a way to trace it but I'm too annoyed to do it now.

I had planned to do a little painting, touching up the walls and woodwork that got marked over Christmas, the worst offender being me swatting a fly with a brightly-coloured magazine that rubbed off on the wall. I identified all the different Farrow & Ball paints that I needed, there being no fewer than four, but I've gone a bit cool on that job now. It'll keep. There's always manãna.