(no subject)

Emboldened by my neglect, Lt. Bush - aka Morning Glory, aka Mile-A-Minute - has begun to strangle our orange tree with lianas thick as your thumb. The little bugger knows I'm not going to spray herbicides all over the tree. So (discovering to my surprise that we own a wheelbarrow) I've been out there with the secateurs this morning, chopping the monster into pieces, and ripping up great stretches of vines from the grass. (The vegetable patch is a dead loss: only poison can save it now. My January spraying has impeded Lt. Bush somewhat but has far from done for the fucker. As soon as the weather gives me a chance I'm going back over everything with double strength chemical DEATH.)

Now I am pooped and could use a nap, but I've just washed my CPAP and I can't do a thing with it.

Right hand, meet left hand

Two days ago I spent half an hour in the phone queue with Australia Post, waiting to inform them that the bundle of mail held during our holiday hadn't been delivered, although normal daily deliveries were getting through. During the wait, I also found their email contact form, and sent off a complaint that way. Finally got through to someone on the blower who promised to get on to it.

When I finally got off the phone, there was the held mail, sitting on the front doorstep.

Yesterday Aus Post emailed me back promising to look into the mystery; I emailed them to let them know all was well.

This afternoon (while I was napping) they called saying they'd make sure the hold was taken off my mail, so it would start being delivered again. I ain't calling them back just to sit in that damn queue again. Especially not if I might end up in that "fuck off and we'll call you back at a time of your choosing whoops just kidding about that last part" dead end. Let 'em work it out themselves!