The weather is changeable.  I wonder if that’s specific or not.  It worries me this startling non-statement of the barometer.  It’s quite warm today, and I’m not sure what to wear, and I have tasks to do written in my mind.  First take down the bed frame, get rid of the extra linen, and really hoover up.  I decide I must be conservative about how I dress, given the list.  I mean how can you unscrew a double bed frame in a skirt?  It leads to contortion, and or contusions as you scramble about, down there, up there, grab this bit, that bit…  stop it falling apart.  Get down to the floor and can’t get up… 

It’s the last bed I’ll ever unscrew, I tell myself, stop moaning about wearing last years crop trousers and an old t-shirt and get on with it!  Two hours later I’ve given up, due to the special Allen key being invisible, put the frame to one side, and hoovered vigorously in all directions.  I load the large trolley with old moving boxes I’ve never got rid of and taken them out to bins for recycling.  After a wash and some lunch, I sort out the linen, the old net curtains – so pretty – with their pattern of flowers.  Do some deciding about whether the stuff is sellable or not and take them all to the charity shops for either recycling, or sale.  I like the idea of ‘thriftiness’.   Not always having new, not always stuffing things in the bin, that choke up the land sites in rubbish. 

I end up in the city, clad in said old clothes walking calmly with the huge trolley which is now empty for support to get some more Allen Keys.  I wanted Pop too, cola, and fruits – I end up with all sorts.

I walk into Wilkos to pick up the Allen Keys, which of course are still invisible.  I can’t find them.  I figure if I get a complete set of varied sizes, one of them should fit.  Can’t go wrong with logic!

I pick up some new pillowcases too, I like clean new pillow cases!  As I turn to the till, having decided to ask the Assistant there, about the Allen Keys….  Two men come from behind me, large men clad in dark suits.  Business types.  They talk in a hurried way, as they pass me by.  As we might know each other – a long time ago.  One of them seems upset by the way I’ve aged.  I register them and decide to ignore them both.  Except for one thing, the other one, a nastier model seems to think the owner of the shop won’t challenge them.  Not a nice person, no manners, hostile, and he seems to think he can ‘waste me’ completely.  The only problem he states is ‘Brad’.  He keeps on stating this name.  The only two of them I know, comes from ‘Thunderbirds are Go’, and the other is a man in the World Business game I play online.  Google:  Empire. Kred   

Then we have an odd magical happening.  They go forward and enter through the toilet door.  It feels stage managed from start to finish.  Actors.  They do not come out.   I go to the till, and pay, talk to the nice young man and he goes and fetches me three sets of Allen Keys to choose from.

He’s a very nice young man!  I then go into their café and have a coffee.   I’m watching as I sit who goes out from the toilet.  They don’t come out.  It’s very odd, I’m left wondering where they went.

Did they go into the kitchen?  Surely not?  Did they suddenly get down on their knees and crawl round the display units and sneak out through the fire doors?

Then I realize that its in all the films, they are obviously MI5(and three quarters) and used the floo systems from the Rowling’s books, or pulled a lever and entered the old co-op…  

I make for home eventually to find I’d picked the right set and take the bed to pieces – lots of bits.  Not sure now what to do with it.  This bed is what the bullies all wanted from the get go…  Some of them reckoned that it had been made from the vat where the Terminator was melted, and it had a chip in it.  Certainly, I had some odd experiences in it, as I’ve recorded in this blog online.  Feel relieved though folks some weeks ago, it clicked and shut down.  I believe its sleeping!


To visit the store for Allen Keys and other such fascinating bits go: http://www.wilko.com/