Nothing much to report since I last ‘blogged’…and frankly that’s fine. It’s nice for life’s waves to ripple in occasionally. My life is all too often tsunami-like and sometimes even I need a break from that. There are only so many times you can get knocked off your feet by the unexpected before you begin to wonder if you should simply stay down and not bother getting up again. Oh! That sounds a bit defeatist, doesn’t it? It isn’t meant to because as you must know by now, I’m not a defeatist.
Probably, the most exciting and mind-blowing thing that I have done in the last week is to take a trip to the local garden centre. Yes, yes, I hear you…
‘Good grief, is that how she really gets her kicks?’
Well…yes, it is. I am a creature of simple pleasures.
‘All the same… a garden centre?’
Yes, a garden centre, because you see, I haven’t told you the best bit yet. Because I needed 3 bags of potting compost, and we would have been struggling to get all 3 bags in the VW UP…we went in Betsy Land Rover! See? Now you are getting the picture.
Richard wasn’t too pleased when I suggested that the old heap should earn its keep (Betsy, not Richard) because obviously the ancient thing is a status symbol (?) a focal point for anyone passing and isn’t intended for actually use. Yes, I’m being sarcastic. Richard does go to work in it, occasionally, now that I’ve got it running for him (last post…or the one before that, can’t remember).
Anyway, I climbed aboard and leaned inwards as Richard slammed the door, and I mean slammed the door. I’m not allowed to close the door because I wouldn’t do it right? I know. Nuts or what? He positioned himself in the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition. Betsy jumped into life and the thrill of the vibrating Land Rover began. Richard fished around a bit with the gears, found reverse, and off we went in a wake of smoke. Very eco-friendly.
‘Burning oil!’ I shouted over the sound of the engine.
He didn’t even hear me. Or he could have been doing his favourite trick and pretending he hadn’t heard me?
Betsy has the clever knack of giving the impression that she corners on two wheels. The steering wheel appears to be pulled to the right and Betsy veers to the left. That could just be my impression, but she certainly has her own version of a very fancy pirouette on every bend and corner. And she has little consideration for her passenger. Richard appears quite stable, hanging on to the wheel, but I feel like a Weeble. You know, those things that are bottom-heavy and can’t fall over? “Weeble’s wobble but they don’t fall down.” Actually, I’m not sure I should have used that simile, it’s unnervingly a little too near to reality.
It took a moment for me to stop vibrating, as I half fell from the great height of the seat and landed on terra firma, at the garden centre. I have a weird idea that all this vibrating might be beneficial for my neck discs? Does nothing for the fillings in my teeth, though!
We loaded up the trolley thing with our compost, 3 for £10, and I spied another blueberry bush and another gooseberry bush and some seed things on a sticky tape and we paid for them (yes, housekeeping monies – well, gooseberries and blueberries are for the house, aren’t they?), and off we trotted.
Good old Betsy was loaded and away we went. Halfway home, Richard opened a metal vent and a rush of warm air rushed up my crutch. He war-whooped and yelled (he had to yell over the sound of the engine, remember?), ‘A heater! We’ve even got a heater! What do you think to that?’
It was a blood temperature draught coming from a 4 inch vent, and it hardly compensated for the hurricane blowing through the badly fitting doors, but I smiled sweetly and nodded. Little things please little minds… as I’ve said a million times, and will probably say a million more.
My garden is now ready for the spring. I have 4 apple trees, 3 blackcurrant bushes, 2 rhubarb crowns, a dozen raspberry canes, 4 gooseberry bushes, 1 plum tree and 2 blueberry bushes. Lovely. As you can tell, I’m concentrating on fruit this year!
The new rhubarb crown caused a bit of a problem because there was only one place that it could possibly go and as I whacked the spade into the soil it hit concrete and almost broke my wrist. I spent the next hour…YES HOUR…trying to remove the leftover solid concrete and rock boulder that had once housed a pergola pole. Chea was no help at all as she had to be in the hole, patting at soil as it trickled down the sides of the abyss, and even when I swore at her she refused to move. After an hour I’d removed all the concrete with the help of a spade, a fork, a lump hammer, a crowbar and a pint of sweat. Sometimes I wish I was a quitter. No, really, I do. Life would be so much easier.
To be honest it’s lovely having Chea helping…and the chucks. I had to dig out an established Acer from the shrubbery area and that was almost bloody impossible with Chea and two chucks in the hole. Not only that, it was rather nauseating, as every worm was snaffled by the chucks and sucked to death.
Anyway, that concludes my blog regarding nothing, so I’ll trot off now and see if I can put in a row of spinach seeds. Chea can help…but not the chucks.
Take care my lovelies x
PS Apologies for this blog having rambled on to over 950 words. I hate long blogs. I always get bored reading them. So if you didn’t get all the way down this I have to say that I don’t blame you. Mind, if you didn’t get all the way down it you won’t be reading this, will you? I think I’m thinking too much now? I’ve gone.