Been feeling a tad meh today. It's my day off and there is so much I wanted to achieve. I will probably achieve half of it. No point attempting to tidy the house because the bathroom is to be painted soon and everything seems to have found a temporary living spot on my dining table, which leads to what we in the Bingells household term 'picnic dinners' in the lounge room, where we must be vigilant because the mini fox terrier is likely to jump up and snatch something from a plate, and run away.
One thing of note - sold our Magna yesterday. Farewell, Maggie (Mr Bingells has a propensity to name vehicles). Mr Bingells forgot to collect the Notice of Disposal from the new owner, so I sent his wife a message and she had him drop it in to us. This is indeed fortunate, because I happened to be doing an evening medication run last night, when I saw the new owner leaving our street in his newly acquired Magna drive up the hill where he failed to stop at the STOP sign. What other fine-worthy misdemeanours is he going to commit? Would hate to thing we'd neglected the Notice of Disposal and be hit with fines we just really don't need.
2016 has taken another good 'un, Mohamed Ali. Whilst not a fan of boxing per se, I always enjoyed watching footage of Ali in his prime. He was a man of infinite grace; so much poise and feathertouch on the feet in such a huge package, whereas I'm not a particularly robust specimen and cannot take three steps without either stubbing my toe, bumping my knee, or barking my shin. The man's charisma was palpable, and his courage to stand by his convictions truly breathtaking. I always think of him refusing the draft ('No Vietcong ever called me 'nigger'.'), and his willingness to be stripped of his title. Would any of the entitled twerps in the boxing fraternity today be prepared to do that? RIP, Mohamed Ali.
Oh well, I'd best get going if I am to achieve anything else today.
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