man alone

Sally, before she starts her new job, is spending a long weekend with Mara around, maybe on and possibly in Jervis Bay. I am therefore alone in the house until Sunday afternoon. Watching televised sport while wearing only underpants, a bowl of crisps balanced on my stomach and a beer in hand; you get the picture. Of course it won't turn out that way. I need to do stuff in, around and under the house. I need to cut lawns, unblock gutters, devise a way to route rainwater around the side of the house and look at a sofa. I am sure there is much more than that. We have a badly positioned drainpipe at the front of the house. It dumps water in front of the house, on our path. Storms leave us with water flowing through gaps between the concrete path and the sandstone blocks our house is built upon. Then under the house and out the back, via our underhouse storage area. Not good. The recent rain made that apparent and encouraged a lawn growth spurt in our lawns. We have plenty of lawn (by my lazy-gardener standards.) That said, the clever money would be on me leaving that lot to the last moment and instead watching series 3 of The League of Gentlemen. Then the extras. Then re-watching series 1, 2 and 3. I would like to watch the cricket on Saturday, but...well...y'know.