July, how come it's July?

July 1st, damn, 30 days to go before another birthday.

The homeless are still homeless.

July 1st, are you sure?

The last week has gone past very quickly but July already.

I know it's winter, walking to the corner shop for the paper almost led to frostbite this morning.

Even the spiders are looking for warm spots but did the Huntsman have to drop in my cloak to find it. He was lucky when he bounced off the boobs that I didn't step on him but he was so big it would have taken an industrial vaccy to get the remains out of the carpet.

July, I was sure I had more time before I left 63.

I'm supposed to be typing out the minutes of the meeting of relatives and residents at the Home but my fingers won't work properly which probably has something to do with the brain freezing and my feet have no feeling.

I have an invite to a party on the 21st of July. Upwey, Dandenong Ranges Upwey.  It's July, it's freezing in Cheltenham in July, up there it snows in July.  Anyway I'm not going unless they have a cake for me too.

Arthritis hates July, my bones complain. I can hear them whining through the blubber. Inuits say blubber keeps you warm in winter.  I can tell you it's not doing much for me.

I had a 15 minute fight with a new pack of clingwrap this morning.  For years I have been opening packs of clingwrap and never needed an instruction book until now.  You cannot just flip up the lid, you have to cut along the edge and don't use one finger, you'll have a paper cut to the bone. Take out the clingwrap and follow the red arrow to find the edge of the plastic and remember to swear when the red arrow breaks before that happens.  Drag cling wrap out and try to tear along serrated edge which isn't there. But there it is underneath the cardboard belonging to the flip up lid you've just cut through.  Rip off cardboard, remember there is a steel edge there.  Yes, you can swear when you forget and slice through another finger. When did 'elf and safety go insane on clingwrap?

It isn't raining but I'm on the third bucket of dripping water from the spouting near the front door. I should move all three as the letter informing me about the installation of my smart (?) meter  (due next week) says the installer should have clear access to the meter box.  Always helpful I am but in this case the bastard can trip over and drown.

Besides I'm busy removing craft and beading magazines from the study. It's finally penetrated to my frozen brain that I can scan what I want to CD and view it on my little viewer when I am back in my work room sometime in the coming decade.  Fifty magazines gone through and another 40 to go. They're damn heavy or I'm getting too old to be picking up heavy magazines.  Anyway it is one of those sitting down by the fire jobs just perfect for winter.

It's almost the anniversary of the passing of the cat.  My gas bill is down because I'm not getting up at 6 to put the fire on for the frosted moggie.  The BOH is still mourning and homeless. 

So now I'm going to have a drink.  The orange tree at the back door is laden and the fruit is ice cold, about the only good thing about July so far.