Our wooden fences are crumbling for lack of nourishment. Plus three planks are missing. I've taken care of the gaps by planting plaited willow boughs bound in ribbons in their place. We were very creative in the early days of Lockdown all those years ago.
Once inside B&Q, Son rang me. The colour choices for the fence were either Dark Teak or Red Cedar. Red sounded thrashy so I chose Teak. When he started painting the fence yesterday lunchtime, 'Dark Teak' looked more like diarrhoea. Luckily, by teatime, it had darkened to medium toast.
He's doing the shed tomorrow. I wanted Duck Egg Blue. A few years ago, he was invited to a Debs. The Debutante lived on Pearse Road in Ballphehane. Hubbie and I were invited to her house for 'Prinks'. Standing in the kitchen, their shed in the back garden caught my eye. It was painted a soft powder blue with lilac trimming. It was like something out of Country Living magazine. The Dad of the girl laughed. He told me the shed was falling apart and he was ordered to paint it in time for the prinks to hide the eyesore. That's what I had in mind when I asked Son for Periwinkle blue or Seabreeze green. Son rang to say they were out of those colours; the closest he could find was Sage. It could be nice. If all else fails we could do what the estate agents suggest and make it a 'feature' or grow something over it.
He also bought seeds for gherkins, jalapeno peppers, and basil - they were out of lettuce - and little incubator boxes. I thought they were rat traps at first. Yesterday evening, he spent hours carefully reading the instructions, evenly spacing the seeds in the finely grained compost and now the rat traps grace the windowsill in the sunroom. This morning he inspected them and was disappointed with their lack of progress. He planted an apple a month ago and was thrilled to see a green shoot after a week. It's a weed but I'm not going to be the one to tell him.
The powerhose is knackered. It's grand for washing the car and watering the pots but for shifting dirt it makes no impact. On these sunny evenings, I like to lie face down on the grass but with all his power washing he's turned the garden into a bog. So I hung out on the sofa finishing The Woman Who Spent a Year in Bed.
While I languished on the sofa, I couldn't help but notice the layers of dust under the armchair opposite and the cobwebs dangling from the ceiling. That's the downside of sunny evenings, the sun shows up everything. After my jog this morning at 8am, when all right-minded people should be up anyway, I hauled out the vacuum cleaner and ran over every surface on the ground floor including the bottom half of the stairs.
I bumped into my American friend, Judy, while out on my jog. She refers to Trump as 'Trumpty Dumpty.' She has two children attending university in the UK, but are now back home studying for their online exams next week. When I asked her what her kids thought of Boris she said they had no opinion but that this pandemic was exposing him for the incompetent that he is and for once he can't blame the EU.
I just thought of a silver lining. Son's (22) bedroom will be free from June 1st for the whole summer. It's as sunny as the kitchen and with its small desk, I could use it as my new 'office'.
To complement all my jogging, I am trying to eat healthier. On Tuesday I boiled two eggs. I planned to have an egg salad sandwich only to find we had no bread left. I couldn't persuade anyone to go to the shops - no-one wants to queue for a whole hour for a sliced pan - so I did the unthinkable, I had a salad. Same thing, no bread. I added in grated cheese and sprouted beans and it was delicious.
I bought the bean sprouts while at an organic stall with my friend Annette in the English Market last Saturday. They are great in soups. They add crunch, texture and substance to a homemade soup. I never got around to making soup and seeing them in the sitting in the fridge filled me with guilt. I horsed them into the salad on Tuesday. Covered in a sprinkle of rock salt, they were delicious. Every day since I have been adding them to my lunch-time salad. Yesterday, Son (20) came into the kitchen while I was eating. I noticed a terrible smell. Being careful with my words I said to him, "Maybe you could do with a shower."
"I just had one," he said.
I looked at him surprised, "Then what is that crotch smell?"
"What?" said he. "Do you mean the smell inside your underpants?"
"Yeah," I said, "I can smell crotch and it's horrible." I sniffed the air again and then bending down to eat another forkful of salad, the smell hit me again. It was coming from my lunch. The bean sprouts had started to turn.
That poor boy, I blame him for everything. Like Son (22) he's planning to move out for the summer too. I might change the locks after they leave. The house would be a joy to live in. The laundry would grow only slightly. If I leave the kitchen clean, it will stay clean 12 hours later. No cold piss on the toilet seats or sprayed within a three-foot range of the general toilet bowl. No four-day-old socks, sweaty jocks or canoe sized shoes left lying around the house as evidence of their passing through.
I'll miss them.
No, I won't.
Yes, I will.
No, I won't.
Will.
Won't......
Once inside B&Q, Son rang me. The colour choices for the fence were either Dark Teak or Red Cedar. Red sounded thrashy so I chose Teak. When he started painting the fence yesterday lunchtime, 'Dark Teak' looked more like diarrhoea. Luckily, by teatime, it had darkened to medium toast.
He's doing the shed tomorrow. I wanted Duck Egg Blue. A few years ago, he was invited to a Debs. The Debutante lived on Pearse Road in Ballphehane. Hubbie and I were invited to her house for 'Prinks'. Standing in the kitchen, their shed in the back garden caught my eye. It was painted a soft powder blue with lilac trimming. It was like something out of Country Living magazine. The Dad of the girl laughed. He told me the shed was falling apart and he was ordered to paint it in time for the prinks to hide the eyesore. That's what I had in mind when I asked Son for Periwinkle blue or Seabreeze green. Son rang to say they were out of those colours; the closest he could find was Sage. It could be nice. If all else fails we could do what the estate agents suggest and make it a 'feature' or grow something over it.
He also bought seeds for gherkins, jalapeno peppers, and basil - they were out of lettuce - and little incubator boxes. I thought they were rat traps at first. Yesterday evening, he spent hours carefully reading the instructions, evenly spacing the seeds in the finely grained compost and now the rat traps grace the windowsill in the sunroom. This morning he inspected them and was disappointed with their lack of progress. He planted an apple a month ago and was thrilled to see a green shoot after a week. It's a weed but I'm not going to be the one to tell him.
The powerhose is knackered. It's grand for washing the car and watering the pots but for shifting dirt it makes no impact. On these sunny evenings, I like to lie face down on the grass but with all his power washing he's turned the garden into a bog. So I hung out on the sofa finishing The Woman Who Spent a Year in Bed.
While I languished on the sofa, I couldn't help but notice the layers of dust under the armchair opposite and the cobwebs dangling from the ceiling. That's the downside of sunny evenings, the sun shows up everything. After my jog this morning at 8am, when all right-minded people should be up anyway, I hauled out the vacuum cleaner and ran over every surface on the ground floor including the bottom half of the stairs.
I bumped into my American friend, Judy, while out on my jog. She refers to Trump as 'Trumpty Dumpty.' She has two children attending university in the UK, but are now back home studying for their online exams next week. When I asked her what her kids thought of Boris she said they had no opinion but that this pandemic was exposing him for the incompetent that he is and for once he can't blame the EU.
I just thought of a silver lining. Son's (22) bedroom will be free from June 1st for the whole summer. It's as sunny as the kitchen and with its small desk, I could use it as my new 'office'.
To complement all my jogging, I am trying to eat healthier. On Tuesday I boiled two eggs. I planned to have an egg salad sandwich only to find we had no bread left. I couldn't persuade anyone to go to the shops - no-one wants to queue for a whole hour for a sliced pan - so I did the unthinkable, I had a salad. Same thing, no bread. I added in grated cheese and sprouted beans and it was delicious.
I bought the bean sprouts while at an organic stall with my friend Annette in the English Market last Saturday. They are great in soups. They add crunch, texture and substance to a homemade soup. I never got around to making soup and seeing them in the sitting in the fridge filled me with guilt. I horsed them into the salad on Tuesday. Covered in a sprinkle of rock salt, they were delicious. Every day since I have been adding them to my lunch-time salad. Yesterday, Son (20) came into the kitchen while I was eating. I noticed a terrible smell. Being careful with my words I said to him, "Maybe you could do with a shower."
"I just had one," he said.
I looked at him surprised, "Then what is that crotch smell?"
"What?" said he. "Do you mean the smell inside your underpants?"
"Yeah," I said, "I can smell crotch and it's horrible." I sniffed the air again and then bending down to eat another forkful of salad, the smell hit me again. It was coming from my lunch. The bean sprouts had started to turn.
That poor boy, I blame him for everything. Like Son (22) he's planning to move out for the summer too. I might change the locks after they leave. The house would be a joy to live in. The laundry would grow only slightly. If I leave the kitchen clean, it will stay clean 12 hours later. No cold piss on the toilet seats or sprayed within a three-foot range of the general toilet bowl. No four-day-old socks, sweaty jocks or canoe sized shoes left lying around the house as evidence of their passing through.
I'll miss them.
No, I won't.
Yes, I will.
No, I won't.
Will.
Won't......
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