oil. The Senior Cat and the friend who does two hours heavy gardening each fortnight will be plunged into this when it reaches the requisite temperature.
Why? They stole my clothespegs again, my very good clothespegs. This is the fourth year in a row they have done the same thing. They use them to peg the netting to the fruit trees.
"But they are only pegs!" the Senior Cat told me this morning, "I'll get you some more."
"No, I will get some more," I tell him.
"No, I will."
"I will get some more because I know what sort I want."
"But aren't pegs just pegs?"
"No."
I show him. I show him the cheap sharp edged plastic pegs in the old plastic icecream container which were bought for the specific purpose of pegging the netting together. It does not matter if these gradually disintegrate in the sun. It does not matter if the edges are rather sharp or rough or catch on the netting. It does matter if they catch on the clothes. He had forgotten all about this container. He had just grabbed the pegs in the small blue plastic bucket.
These pegs are smoother and stronger. There are a number of longer pegs I use for the sheets on windy days. There are the green "double-ended" pegs a friend gave me as one of those "useful" presents. Or rather, there were all these things. Many of them now decorate the trees - again.
I rescued as many as I could from lower down the trees. I supplemented with the old wooden pegs I have kept as "useful". There were just enough to hang out two loads of washing and a few extra things like the tablecloth we used last night.
The oil is heating gently. I am going to buy more pegs this morning and peg the Senior Cat and our friend into place!
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3 comments:
If it would not lower the temperature of the oil too much, may I add The Men to the pot.
After admiring the progress on the kitchen I discovered they they had used my best tea towels for wiping off the grouting.
And to make matters worse, they had opened a fresh pack of them to do so.
Unbelievable! They just don't notice these things do they?
There are so many stories I could tell of the menfolk just not getting it that I am now convinced it is due to some fault in the brain due to hormones - you know, like the stuff they accuse us women of having.
I am lucky to have found a good trainable one who has the good grace to be apologetic, and not do it again (very often). He still manages to slip up every so often.
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