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Happy year of the rabbit.
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Got some wool detergent last year, because I respect wool. I want to say the bottle bore the Woolmark, the seal of approval of the International Wool Secretariat (Brian Woolnough, Glen Wool etc), but I’ve checked and it doesn’t. Anyway, obviously you don’t want to place the bottle on top of the vibrating washing machine and have it fall off and crack open and ooze on the floor, and think disgruntledly “this is what I get for respecting wool”, although after you’ve cleaned up the mess your mop and floor will be rather nice and fragrant.
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Went outside to put out the recycling, then one thing led to another and I found myself on a bus, and then another bus to the seaside. (On the 6A between North Walsham and Cromer it was just me enjoying the Edinburgh landmarks depicted on the moquette, but otherwise things seemed busy enough.) Have been thinking for a while I would benefit from the some salty sea air, and now I’ve had some, and I don’t feel particularly different.
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Hate the Observer’s Sunday With column more than expected. Jack Dee’s got a clay oven barbecue.
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🎦 M3GAN, an excellent bit of nonsense.
Glad the Odeon’s got rid of the smug disembodied voice who’d say “ooh yeah the trailers … all specially chosen for this film, actually.” Maybe the poor voice actor is now destitute and unable to shoe his children, now he’s lost that work … I don’t care.