A Stroke Of Fortune

This is going to have to be quick of course (fear not ladies, not that quick). I just had to pop in here first and tell everyone before I nip down to the patent office. Einstein schmeinstein! We have made a discovery that could revolutionise housework.

She Of The Townhouse has been away again. In the last fortnight she has been flitting backwards and forwards to the capital overseeing a change in leadership.
I beg your pardon? No no! Not those buffoons. I’m talking about Rhodri and Ieuan. Don’t think for one minute that the heart op was a coincidence….look I’m going a bit Corbett already. This has all got nothing to do with our discovery. The point is that She Of The Townhouse is on the road and Axeman, The Boy, Asbo, Blind Pugh and I have been left to fend for ourselves…… again.

Its all very well her being a Grand Pooh Bah Of A Whole Celtic Nation but I am afraid that she is using it as an excuse to let housework and catering standards slip. Once more the dust bunnies are threatening to mutate into a new suborder. And we are having trouble changing the channel. A few of the takeaway cartons spilled as the fell off the pile on the arm of the chair, and now there is sweet and sour on the remote.
Asbo did his best but its not the same as having a woman around the place, the limits of his tongue are becoming apparent (he is much quieter and he doesn’t smell as good either, but that is of less relevance so I thought I’d leave that bit out of my main theme). We are forced to watch repeats of Pobol y Cwm on an endless loop that was recorded when The Mummy was in hospital. I like the idea that Eastenders is not the longest running TV soap that comes from the BBC stable but the six episodes on this tape are becoming a little tired with repetition, especially as we have to stand almost out in the back yard to watch them due to the fact that the volume is stuck on full. Still they do include a couple of references to the welsh world cup squad and we enjoy a laugh.

As she is due back tomorrow I thought it might be nice if we all chipped in and made sure she had a fresh Dyson. The old one is full again and we have to throw it away with all the others. This isn’t proving as expensive as I had feared last time I mentioned it. We were able to recover She Of The Townhouse’s credit card number from one of Axeman’s ebay forays and use it on the Tesco website so now we get Dysons delivered mouse to house whenever the old one runs out for nothing. Selflessly determined to help I decided to put the old one out for the binmen despite the fact that she had left it two floors up, rather than by the front door; where it would have been much easier. I must have a word with her about thinking of others when she finishes a job.
While I was carting it down the stairs I lost my grip and do you know what? On the very last bounce that pod thing where all the grease and slime finally wind up just broke off. I have been meaning to write to Dyson to suggest this as a feature for some time as I feel this could lead to a far more environmentally friendly machine. Plus there would be a nice little business for someone in the pod replacement market.
Don’t get too excited and run off thinking you are going to make it rich though. As I say there has been an important discovery, and this may just render the Dyson obsolete.
While we were scouring the floor for the envelope with our dinner money in it, The Boy spotted something new. Some of the bright red sauce from the last Indian meal we had, breakfast on Monday if memory serves, had congealed on the floor trapping a rather large wad of dog hair. The effect was rather like a small scrap of scarlet and black carpet. The colour scheme reminding me of one of those jumpers worn by Paul Michael Glaser in the second season of Starsky and Hutch.

*Ok hands up! Who said ‘Geek’....…I’m not going to go on until we sort this out…*

After a short period of experimentation we found out that we were indeed on to a winning formula. Left over curry sauce and stray dog hair make a remarkably good self assembling carpet. By its very nature the bits that are walked on most are the ones that get a free repair most often. The carpet has a sweet eastern aroma that we all agree reminds us of those stinking incense stick that She Of The Townhouse insists on setting fire to in the lavatory (posh) after 'the lads' have been in there. Plus it helps let you know what the weather is like. If the carpet is stickier than usual then wear a coat as it may be raining outside.

To summarize.
A self assembling, self repairing, vibrantly coloured carpet; that needs no cleaning, and does away with the need for airwick and barometers.
Our fortune is made!

Mush dash.