Mafia visit and the art installation

Since it's purchase and use a few months back, my morticer has taken on the role of a piece of modern sculpture and has been installed in our current dining room where it had attracted curious glances from visitors and frustrated outbursts from the family when they need to get past the damned thing. I see this a indisputable evidence of it's status as art as it has evoked emotional responses from it's audience. However, as a result of today's efforts, it now has a new home in the Museum of Metropolitan Art garage. Let me explain ...

After, cutting and jointing a couple of the bench legs yesterday I was keen to get on with the job and was breakfasted, and working before nine o'clock. By the time 30% surfaced at around ten o'clock I had glued and screwed the first half of the frame together and was well on the way to constructing the second. I won't bore an already dwindling readership with the minutiae of it's construction and will move on towards lunchtime when 30% was about to leave for an afternoon of Musical Theatre in Birmingham ...

... As she was about to depart, taking a minor detour to drop TP off at the Rugby Club, she noticed a large carrier bag had been deposited on our doorstep. On closer examination it became apparent that we had either upset the local Mafia Big Style or Cathy H-R had recently slaughtered a pig ... The bag contained a pig's head and, as I am sure I would remember if I had moved in on a local protection racket or drug ring, I am fairly certain that Cathy's customers have again refused the head when buying half a pig. It therefore looks like I will be starting a guanciale cure tomorrow then.

Most of the day was spent building the bench and further tidying the garage. By half past four I had finished and was absolutely shattered.  I didn't have much opportunity to rest as T&M still needed to be walked so it was a case of a quick coffee and out around the Three Miler.

After the walk I then had to collect TP from the Rugby Club where he had been assisting with a Charity Event. Normally I would have taken the Defender but the beautiful weather and a lack of diesel meant that the Honda got dragged from her lair and was used to pick him up. By the time I got home I was exhausted and TP was left to order a Chinese takeaway. Fortunately I had just enough energy left to rectify the Defender / Diesel issue and collect "number 90" from Astwood House Chinese.

The rest of the evening was spent trying, but failing, to fall asleep on the sofa, whilst praying that the twinges of heartburn didn't flare up in to full blown indigestion.