Pottering

Backup crew

I’ve decided Mr Pandammonium should sign up to walk 46 miles round Cambridgeshire in 24 hours. He isn’t as keen as I am for him to do it, but nevertheless, he walked, as training as I see it, to Cambridge today. It took him 7–8 hours.

I’d be his backup crew, taking him to the start for registration at three in the morning and home again when he either finishes or conks out – I’d expect the former.

Dismay

Meanwhile, I stayed at home to recover from yesterday with a cat that had noticed with dismay that his daddy had deserted him. I had to let him curl up on my knee for ages till I had to move.

I got a lovely cuddle off him (Mr Perkins will only let me cuddle him and only sometimes and only if I hold him just so and, ideally, I must rub his head), but when I put him back down, he went fighty-bitey.

Plant progress

I went outside to tend to my plants; Mr Perkins followed me out and stayed out till his daddy returned. My sunflowers range from defunct to giving it a good go. The lemon balm is thriving.

I repotted my pot-bound potted palm (Chamaedorea elegans, apparently) this afternoon. Wikipedia says this type of palm is one of three kinds that are used on Palm Sunday, but that the palm trees are being wiped out because they’re over-harvested – something to think about next Palm Sunday.

Creepy

In getting the bag of muck out to repot the palm, I disturbed a horrible harvest spider (don’t follow this link unless you like creepy-crawlies with eight legs).

Someone told me at parkrun yesterday that dead spiders lie on their backs with their legs curled up because their legs are hydraulic, and when they die, there’s nothing to maintain the pressure, so the legs curl up, and gravity rolls them over. Fascinating in a creepy way.

Mid-cycle

Once Mr Pandammonium got back and had deposited himself in a recovery bath, I put all our walking clothes and exercise clothes in the washing machine. The washing machine takes forever, so I thought it was suspicious that it was quiet quite soon after. I looked at it; it was still mid-cycle, so I let it be. Later, I looked again; it was in the same state as it was before. This was not good.

Fix

I turned it off and on again [YouTube], pressed all the buttons and turned all the knobs/dials. It did nothing but make a low burring noise. I turned it off. I looked up what was wrong with it and how to fix it, and made Mr Pandammonium go and fix it after tea and a Taskmaster.

Gallons of water all over the floor later, a colour-catcher and a rusty old drill bit were removed from the filter. Meanwhile, I’d lugged the very wet and very heavy washing into the bathroom (not very far – the bathroom is downstairs) and tipped it into the bath.

Wringing

I gave the washing a rinse, and was wringing each item out – while remembering how much I dislike handwashing clothes – when Mr Pandammonium came and announced that the washing machine had made its low burring noise again then spluttered into rotating life.

Fester

I gave Mr Pandammonium just over half the washing to put back into the machine (in case it was over-filled, although I’ve put more than that in it before with no problem), and hung the rest of it up on an airer standing in the bath (I bought a narrow airer for drying clothes in the bath on the boat; it’s not as cat-friendly as the one I bought after we moved back to dry land) so it doesn’t sit and fester. I restarted the washing machine, and now have to stay up to make sure it actually finishes. Yawn.