Since we've had photovoltaic panels fitted to our roof I am galvanised into action whenever the sun shines: not to rush out and bask in its warm rays, not to smile at neighbours remarking on what a beautiful day it is. No, I'm grabbing sheets off beds and clothes from the laundry basket, shoving them into the washing machine and switching it on; filling the dishwasher and switiching that on too. If it's chilly the electric fire gets switched on to boost the gas central heating. And, if the sun still shines, the tumble dryer and iron come into action. Our electricity is being generated free. Our money-making machine is in action. Come on my sun!!
Now I ask myself if the poetry has left my soul leaving in its place a mercenary core. (Pause for a long think.)
And the answer I've come up with is No. Not only are we helping to save the planet by generating clean electricity, but also the government FIT Scheme (Feed-in Tariff) is boosting our pensions and thus we shall be able to afford to rent a beach hut this summer and thereby be able to frolic on the beach and in the sea. And for the whole week we'll be doing that our solar panels will be quietly turning the light from the sun into more dosh. Yay!!!!
Today, the first of January, has to be one of the most satisfying dates of the year. 1.1.11. How beautiful is that. And lucky too in my book, due to my obsession with noughts, ones and twos which bombard me night and day with their promise of magical things to come.
To Mr A's relief, I have ceased waking him up when I open my eyes in the night and see the digital clock lit up with the numerals 2.20, 2.21 or 2.22 which is often the case, my bladder somehow knowing exactly when to arouse me. I read once that when people keep seeing these particular three digits, it means that an angel is trying to contact them. Whoever this angel is, I take my hat off to its persistence and hope that one day, in the great hearafter, or is it hereafter, we can have a laugh about its influence on my night-time perambulations to the loo. Except that I don't believe in a hereafter, or even hearafter, so that's not going to happen. Unless I am wrong of course.
Anyway, the next fantastic dates are 11.11.11 and 12.12.12. So I look forward to those. In the meantime I wish anyone reading this a very happy, healthy and prosperous New Year. Mr A and I relaxed with a glass of whisky in front of the tele last night, standing up to have a bit of a smoochie dance and then a jive, before kissing each other on the stroke of midnight whilst gasping for breath (on account of the jive). Very satisfactory.
In order to download the picture of dates for free I am obliged to mention the website which I think is called photosforfree. Or something like that. I hope that will prevent any royalty court case.
