Day: August 9, 2017

@quill-of-thoth – There’s actually no drain to handle rain runoff back there at all, as handy as it might be sometimes. But, I’m definitely glad it’s just rainwater and not also backed-up kitchen drains now👍 That metal cover the water was coming up from is just an inspection cover for the house drains. The pavement slopes away from it, especially into that one corner.

Worst case, now I know you can take the lid off and sweep water into the hole if necessary! Never actually had any reason to open it before the water company guy came and had to poke around in there. The standing rain should eventually soak into the ground through the pavement cracks, though.

The patio setup in general seems like just another in the collection of DIY Don’ts from some previous owner. Planning for drainage? Using one of those fancy levels? Who has time for such nonsense?! 🙄

A couple of bad shots with some of the bubbles I mentioned earlier. Not foam, but more like somebody took a bubble wand and blew bubbles onto the surface.

It’s coming down too hard now for there to be as many at a time as earlier, plus that detergent is no doubt getting diluted more all the time. There were way more at a time earlier today, and it was kind of interesting to watch.

clatterbane:

OK, like it or not, I’m going to be a lot sorrier if I don’t go ahead and gimp my way down to the corner shop before it closes. Been hoping the rain would let up more, but doesn’t look likely anytime soon. Lake Romford has returned to the patio, but at least it’s much cleaner water now. I guess from the disinfectant residue, raindrops splashing down keep making little soap bubbles to float on the surface. Never saw anything quite like that before.

The ankle is more walkable after being up a while and letting some pain relief kick in, at least. More ibuprofen is one of the things I really needed to get, so yeah I had better put on some more waterproof shoes and get my carcass moving.

Made it down there and back, and didn’t even forget anything important enough to send me out in this rain! *wry smile*

Time for some tea. Should be decently set for food for at least a few days from the last grocery run, so it could be a lot worse.

OK, like it or not, I’m going to be a lot sorrier if I don’t go ahead and gimp my way down to the corner shop before it closes. Been hoping the rain would let up more, but doesn’t look likely anytime soon. Lake Romford has returned to the patio, but at least it’s much cleaner water now. I guess from the disinfectant residue, raindrops splashing down keep making little soap bubbles to float on the surface. Never saw anything quite like that before.

The ankle is more walkable after being up a while and letting some pain relief kick in, at least. More ibuprofen is one of the things I really needed to get, so yeah I had better put on some more waterproof shoes and get my carcass moving.

stimmyabby:

I sometimes feel like my abuse isn’t Official Real Abuse

everyone else’s abuse is Real Abuse, but mine isn’t

and calling it “abuse” is unfair to people who have been through Real Abuse

so if you sometimes feel that way too

here I am, a person with Real Abuse

saying your abuse is Official Real Abuse

and you are allowed to call it “abuse”

because it is

you are very brave

arionwind:

cenkrett:

Of course there are police officers who are genuinely good people, and who try their best to do good from within the draconian strictures of the system they represent and uphold – it’s unrealistic and intellectually dishonest to claim that there are none – but that is not nearly sufficient reason to trust the institution of police as a whole.

I’m related to a good cop. Among other things that happened to her on the job, she got reprimanded for saving a child from a burning building and was “promoted” to a no-advancement desk job for years for refusing to look away from the abuse within the system.

Good police do exist, and paying any attention to their career track should be all the reason anyone needs to distrust the institution as a whole.

slutty-ankylosaurus:

animate-mush:

mythaelogy:

things linguistics has taught me: do not fuck with the welsh

Seriously though do not. This is welsh nationalism in a nutshell.

So like, 150 or so years ago, nobody cared about Welsh. Not even the welsh. But then, one day, some folks got sick of paying the tolls at toll gates. Citing bizarre biblical precedent, they dressed up as women and started seizing toll gates, at which point the (also welsh) gate owners went “WTF?” and called in (english) magistrates to resolve the dispute.

The English Magistrates looked at the situation and went “WTF?” and commissioned an inquiry loosely titled “WTF is wrong with Wales??”

Well this commission did a ton of work and looked at schools and politics and people on hillsides raising sheep and all that jazz and came to the thrilling conclusion: What’s Wrong with Wales is that Ridiculous Backwards Language they all speak there.

There was a moment of dead silence, broken only by the loud scrape as Wales, collectively, as a nation, in a fit of unity not seen since the castles came to subjugate the native tribes, pushed back its chair, stood up slowly, and said “what you just say bout me?”

And folks who’d never heard it spoken started teaching their children Welsh, and the old sheep herder on the hill became a cultural icon, and the rioters and the gate owners high fived each other and said “suck it, England!” (only in Welsh this time).

And now Welsh is a protected language, there’s a strong Welsh nationalist movement, with its own flag and spelling conventions, and there’s a Welsh channel on television (which is doubly impressive when you remember that Britain only has like three channels).

And that is how the Welsh saved their language from extinction by sheer force of spite

Just gotta add those toll booth riots were called the Rebecca Riots, the rioters were known as Rebeccas and I am named after them. It’s the one consolation to an otherwise boring name.

Also my great grandad lived to the age of 101 and never spoke a word of English that wasn’t forced out of him through threat of unemployment. Despite being fluent and having 5 great grandchildren who have the Welsh vocabulary of toddlers.

Source: mythaelogy