Somewhat empty 
-less house.
But that canât stop the
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Good-oh, Dunnock
I have dealt with the grease trap on the dishwasher, & am now running it on a cleaning cycle, so a drink would be welcome.
I take it that no beans or sofas have been deployed? 
Carinthia.xx
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Well, we donât have a sofa, so I had to jump on the beds instead. Got the beans out of me beak eventually.
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Garn, admit it: they were dislodged when you hit yer head on the ceiling while bouncinâ on the bed.
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Well, soakinâ 'em in gin didnât work.
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Hmm
Have just found an empty lager can in my food/garden waste bin.
Sigh
Carinthia.xx
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It wisnae meâŚ
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Blackouts now, is it? Tut tut.
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Itâs a good job that I noticed it. We can be fined for contaminated bins.
Carinthia.xx
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You can also be fined for not having your bin out, or for making it hard to open, because you have a known address and are much easier to chase than some random lager-drinker who probably didnât want just to chuck the thing in the street. (Kids these days donât have pockets, obviously.)
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I applaud the binning, just not in that one. The neighbours have been using it for garden waste, so I may have dumped my brown paper bag full of peelings in without another thought.
We arenât allowed to use the biodegradable âplasticâ liners, but brown paper, or wrapped in newspaper is allowed.
Donât get me started on the different coloured binsâŚ
Carinthia.xx
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Did someone say colour vision deficit? Surely not, nobody has those any more.
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Mome.
Birmingham is not merely Mordor with Underpasses; it is Mordor with Motorways.
Apart from that all was well, and the Innocuous Dave sends regards to the board. In a slightly bemused way, mind.
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Wotcher, Fishy.
Itâs âCroydon, twinned with Mordorâ in my book [grinnity]
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In my experience, spaghetti junction, Ă la Birmingham, wozz like Mordor crossed with Hell when I hitch-hiked up to Newcastle from there in the early '70s. Why? No money.
Glad to see you back, Fishers.
Soo xx
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Spaghetti Junction is almost always assumed to be one of the places in the Birmingham area where two motorways intersect, but in fact itâs the Gravelly Hill interchange (Junction 6) where the M6 gets tangled up with the A38 and the A5127. Thereâs a lovely picture here:
(Spaghetti Junction, Birmingham, West Midlands | Educational Images | Historic England)
The only time I got dumped there, there really wasnât anywhere to stand to hitch, because people werenât going to slow down once theyâd embarked on it at all: they were too busy trying to work out where to go to be bothered with a hitch-hiker, anyway. I ended up thumbing an A-road to another junction, but I canât remember exactly how I did it.
Sheffield (Tinsley) was another place not to get dropped: it is one end of a flyover-thingy, and there is sid-all traffic going in the direction you want; lots coming off the motorway from the north on that turning, not-a-lot going south onto it. I once stood there for almost five hours, right through rush-hour and into the twilight, until a benign bread-lorry driver took pity on me. I had no coat, and it started to snow slightly: he had to lift me into the cab, because my hands were so cold I couldnât get a grip to hoist myself by. And he took me to the tranny caff at Woodall and got me a lift with a mate of his who was taking a lorry all the way down to London overnight. The blessing be upon him.
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âThe coming of the motorway transformed the local area.â So did the coming of the Luftwaffe.
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Aye, and upon the chap who picked up my (then) boyfriend and me from the sheer horror ovvit all.
Anyhoo - supper was mixed pepper, spring onion and garlic frittatta with fried⌠padrón peppers. Again.
Soo xx
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The Luftwaffe missed the Tame Valley canal, but Spaghetti Junction is built practically on top of it where it meets the Grand Union. Tisnât just roads in that tangle; there are at least three canals and a river as well.
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But dear Fishy where is all the traffic in that photo?
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