I get up at 5am most days.
Breakfast tends to be around 5.10 and usually consists of Sainsbury’s Fruit & Fibre or Muesli.
That sees me through to mid-morning.
By 10am I am getting peckish again and so I have a box of porage sitting on my desk, just for that time.
As seen previously, we have plenty of milk.
And a microwave.
I’ll also slice a banana into it… just for fun. And some blueberries, if there are any kicking about.
I have had my haircut, this morning.
No visit to the barber for me, though. No, I let the current Mrs Masher do her usual hatchet job on it. Fortunately, the ‘hatchet job’ is my preferred style.
In fact, I don’t think I have visited a barber’s shop since Mrs M and I first got together.
She’s not a trained hairstylist, or anything, but cutting hair is something that all women can do, I think.
To a degree.
Yes, on the odd occasion she has made a pig’s ear of it, but it’s never really bothered me.
Because it grows back.
All too quickly.
And nowadays, she pretty much has it off pat.
We have gone through many clippers over the years, but these are Mrs M’s currently preferred set.
They have lasted well and, after many uses, are still very sharp… as the blood currently running down from the tip of my left ear will testify.
The current Mrs Masher has a catering size bottle of Head & Shoulders that she and Amelia use for washing their hair.
Harry and I use a much smaller bottle – that lasts just as long.
Looking at them in the shower, this morning, I noticed that the one we boys use is emblazoned with the epithet: For Men.
Which is good.
Because we are.
But what is the difference between the two bottles, I wondered?
Well, checking through the list of unpronounceable chemicals on the back, the only difference I could see, was that the male version contains Limonene.
So, not only have I got soft and luxurious, dandruff-free hair, but it smells of lemons too.
Because I’m worth it.
This is my wristwatch.
Well, it’s one of my wristwatches. I have three.
This is my day-to-day work watch. It’s solar powered, so doesn’t need winding.
I also have a weekend watch. Same make, but slightly more expensive, waterproof and powered by kinetic energy.
The third is my dress watch, the one I wear to weddings and funerals. It too is solar powered, waterproof and it is synced via radio to DSF77, the time signal broadcast from Germany.
I don’t wear jewelry of any kind… apart from a wristwatch… which I wear all the time (pun not intended, but unavoidable).
Without one, I feel naked.
This is the calculator that I use at work. I took it out of my desk drawer specifically for this photo. And I wrote SHELLOIL on it, because it would have been infantile to have written BOOBS… and – contrary to popular opinion – I am a grown up.
I bought this calculator… actually, I didn’t – my parents bought me this calculator to do my college exams with. I remember going into Dixon’s with my mum, and I remember her wincing at the price when I picked out the one that I wanted.
But, I’ve always been one to look after things and so this calculator – though it’s somewhere around 38 years old – still works perfectly. And it even still has the original instruction manual, tucked into its imitation leather, plastic wallet.
It got me through my electronics exams.
It got me through my Radio Amateur’s exam.
It even got me through the mathematical questions they suddenly threw at me, at my job interview for the GPO/British Telecom.
OK, yes, I’ve had to change the batteries and clean up the PCB, but on the whole, mum, I think I got your money’s worth.
Today was the day of the Montreal Grand Prix.
A circuit where Lewis Hamilton won his first race and one where he usually excels.
A track where Jenson Button won what was – IMHO – one of the best races of the modern era, in 2011.
I became interested in Formula 1 and it’s British drivers, when the young and prodigious LH started showing what he was capable of.
And when JB joined him at McLaren, it was, for me, the dream team and I’ve been a fan ever since.
But I’m not that big a fan that I want to dish out my hard-earned to Rupert bloody Murdoch.
So, for the races that are not available on terrestrial television, I watch them on German satellite channel RTL. The dish sits in the garden, bolted to a paving slab and 5 mins before the race starts, I just feed the cable in through an open window and into the receiver box which then feeds the telly using an old-fashioned SCART lead.
I’ve been watching it like this for the past four or five years. Yes, there are adverts to put up with – annoying German ones, at that – but this arrangement only cost me a one-off payment of just forty quid. If I’d paid SKY for their F1 channel, I would have paid out well over a thousand pounds, by now.
For that sort of saving, I can put up with a few adverts 🙂
I mentioned, last week, about how I do the weekly food shop on a Saturday.
Well, as personal recompense for doing this, first of all, I visit the in-store café, where I will spend 20 minutes relaxing with a cup of tea and a toasted teacake.
I know: very civilised.
It prepares me for facing the hoards of dozy, inconsiderate shoppers, as they slowly drag themselves round, getting in my way and leaving their trolley wherever it will cause me the most grief.
But, there is something that really annoys me about Sainsbury’s Café and their delicious toasted teacake.
It’s the butter.
Nothing wrong with. It’s a good quality butter.
But, when they give it to you, it has come straight from the fridge.
It’s very, very cold.
As such, it won’t spread on the teacake, without ripping it to shreds. I have to put ‘chunks’ of butter on and then wait for it to melt, by which time my toasted teacake isn’t so toasty.
It’s a terrible, terrible thing.
Who’d want to live my life, eh?
My journey to work – as I’ve oft mentioned – is a horrible one and takes far longer than it damn well should.
Generally, to while away the time, I listen to podcasts.
But, a few weeks ago, I fitted a VHF/UHF radio transmitter in the car (that’s it in the picture above). This allows me to converse with other like-minded idiots as I travel.
And it’s amazing how much quicker the time flies when in conversation with someone.
I wish I’d done it years ago.
Hydration is a big thing nowadays. It’s most important – apparently – that we stay hydrated.
You’re not allowed to get thirsty anymore, apparently, so now everyone carries little bottles of water around with them.
At work, whenever we go into meetings, half the desk space is taken up by bottles of water because, it seems, no-one can go for an hour without needing to have a drink.
You could say I’m being hypocritical here as, whenever I go into a meeting, I’ll always take a cup of tea in with me. But I do that, not because I might get thirsty, but because it’s tea. And of course, one should always take tea into meetings. It’s social etiquette.
And besides, someone might bring biscuits.
In the Gents toilet at work (I daresay it’s similar in the Ladies) we have a poster as shown, at reading height above each urinal.
I sometimes get strange looks as I stand there having a pee and say rather too loudly (and on purpose, of course), “Oh yes! Pale straw! Result!”
It’s that time of year, again.
As a child, I never suffered from hayfever and I would ridicule any of my school-friends that did: “C’mon”, I’d say, “It’s only a bit of pollen!”
When I reached adulthood though, it suddenly hit me and I fully understood the torment that my friends had gone through. I then suffered with it for many years.
As I got older, the symptoms started to reduce slightly each year, and nowadays I only really get it if the count is high and I am on my bike: pollen up the nostrils at 60mph, is bound to have an effect!
This year though, I have started suffering from it quite badly again.
And I’m not alone, as both kids also have it pretty bad.
Today, I have made the first of – what I am sure will be – many trips to the chemist, for some much needed relief.
The price of these medications seem to go up each year, but, as I’m sure any fellow sufferers will agree, it’s a price well worth paying.