Weeknotes 22

Now we are staying at home and have little outside space of our own, we’re having to get creative when it comes to getting fresh air.

Our solution? Lunchtime driveway picnics!

Not only do we get to enjoy some sunshine while remaining on private property but we also get to use our rarely-seen VonShef picnic backpack.

Following on from last week, I have been using Krisp to mute background noise on calls and my colleagues report that it works well.

If you’re interested in trying it out, here’s an invite from me that’ll give you an extra free month (and I’ll get two back in return).

After awkwardly wrangling my laptop lid a few too many times, I finally ordered a Logitech C920 HD PRO Webcam on several people’s recommendation. Sadly, it seems I am not the only person who had this idea and they’re out of stock on Amazon until the second week of May.

E has started doing yoga classes over Zoom. It is reassuring to hear that every class begins by negotiating volume levels and asking people to mute themselves.

As we continue to seek ways to entertain C at home, E discovered CBeebies’ “The Baby Club”. You can now find us occasionally singing its theme song or, its other earworm, “what’s in the bag?”

Skills Matter are back and have restored their videos. After previously lamenting their disappearance, I fired up youtube-dl as fast as I could to archive my talks.

I struggled with migraines at the start of the year but, thankfully, wearing glasses has helped a lot. Unfortunately, it also means I have developed some new, unconscious facial expressions. E is not a fan of these new tics and has taken to wordlessly scrunching up her own face as a gentle reminder.

During the seven years in our flat, I have done battle with various unwanted house pests: first, moths and then mice. This week we met a new enemy: ants.

My hands are now lacerated and stinging with vinegar solution thanks to pulling out our kitchen appliances and spraying potential entry points.

My true nemesis is not the ants themselves but our cursed dishwasher, propped up on three—not four—flimsy plastic legs, ready to buckle at the slightest provocation. I spent more time yesterday trying to re-level the blasted thing than I did creating barriers out of washing up liquid.

E and I caught the end of an episode of “The £100k House: Tricks of the Trade” and looked at each other as we contemplated Piers Taylor’s parting line:

But will DIY turn to DI-don’t?