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Aaand once again I have spent much of my morning twenty-five feet above the highway, cleaning out the lead-lined stone of my gutters. This time m'friend Simon WINOLJ came round with his triple-decker ladders and his teenage portable hangover son, and we all took turns trotting up and down, as we shifted said ladders along the forty foot or so of my frontage, in four-foot increments, scooping out rotting leaves and moss and watching the muddy water drain away little by little. I think - I hope! - that should fix the problem for a while.

Then Simon showed me how to change a tap washer efficiently, and now I have a tap that no longer drips. Both of these things are cool. Also, radiator keys bleed air out of radiators. Air should not be in radiators; water is better. There, now we've all learned something today. (Actually, to be fair to myself? I did kinda know that already. I even have a radiator key. Somewhere. Just, I've never been able actually to use it.)

So that was the morning, making my house better; and this afternoon, who could settle to work? Not I. So I have been up a stepladder slapping paint about. Fool that I am, I thought "I need not shut the cats into the other room; I am only going to paint above my head, where they cannot reach."

After five minutes, I looked down to my feet and there was Mac. Climbing up the stepladder I stood upon in order to brush against the paint-tin, to improve his tabby by the addition of just a little white... (Someone tell me a little emulsion is not going to poison his insides? I wiped off as much as I could, but he will undoubtedly lick the rest. I don't need to clip it off, do I...?)

Also, I have got white paint on this keyboard.

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