Nothing Wrong With My Erections …Even With The Wind!

Hi All

OK, so I jumped the gun and pretended that spring had sprung and that now was the time to start planting things in the garden. To be honest I did whack in some broad bean seeds a few weeks ago, as per instructions, but they, acceptably, have yet to surface so no worries on that score. However, yesterday I planted a double row of peas and a double row of mange tout. Perfect so far.

Knowing full well that I had to attempt to give them some sort of cover, if only to prevent Chea from using the finely raked soil as a litter tray, I struggled against the increasing wind to erect and peg down a super-duper, holey, plastic, protection tunnel thingy.

Richard, of course, was his usual non-helpful self, standing on the path issuing forth stupid suggestions, until I issued forth a few of my own, resulting in him legging it back to the house muttering something about he was only trying to help. Yes, TRYING being the operative word. What that man knows about gardening and plastic tunnel erection could be printed on a postage stamp and there would still be room to spare.

So, being the cocky cow that I am, I struggled alone, navigating  the spiky blueberry bushes that tried to take out my left eye, and narrowly avoiding  a fat green frog that had misread its satnav and was heading away from the pond rather than towards it, where its mates were already into a major mating session with a few willing female frogs.

The gathering wind obliged by whipping up the plastic from the manured soil and wrapping it around my head, causing me to break off temporarily to remove a piece of dung from my left eye. Forty-five minutes later, and with most of the sodding plastic pegged down, Richard reappeared with a mug of tea, his eyes running over my handiwork and saying nothing. He does learn – eventually.

So, with the plastic beautifully pegged down, and with the tea drunk, I rinsed my grubby little hands under the flow from the rain barrel and trotted off back to the house, imagining my little peas, snug and warm, and protected from cat pooh, lying in the lovely earth, impatient to sprout.

Around two in the morning the wind increased to hurricane proportions, slamming shut the bedroom window and rattling the chimney pots. My tunnel was never going to stand up to that. It crossed my mind to dash off out into the garden like Gabriel Oak in Far From The Madding Crowd, where he fought the elements to tie down and save the hay ricks, but the moment passed as I knew my tunnel would already be in the apple tree, hanging there like an empty parachute, whose owner had long vacated. Brilliant. Where, I ask you, is Gabriel Oak when you need him?

So, with a mug of tea, a roll of string and a pair of scissors, I sulked up the garden this morning to retrieve the tunnel from the tree, and lo and behold …it wasn’t in the tree, but exactly where I’d erected it. Hah! The wind hadn’t torn it to shreds. So there you go Richard. Keep your opinions on erections to yourself!

Besides, I learnt from the best …my father. He was a master erector of all things. I knew of nothing that toppled after dad had his way with it. Not a ‘screw man’ by any means, oh no, if a nut and bolt could be involved then a nut and bolt was involved. I think he had a standing order with Screwfix! I remember, on one occasion, building an outside run for an aviary and dad trotted round with a collection of various sized nuts and bolts and gave me clear and precise instructions as to where to put them. Years later I had to take a sledge-hammer to demolish that erection.

Perhaps I should bear that it mind for future erections? #wink

Take care my lovelies x

My perfect gardening companion ...No opinions offered!
My perfect gardening companion …No opinions offered!

The Games People Play …Eventually!

Hi All

To be honest, I don’t think I ever ‘pencilled in’ grandchildren as a possibility in my life. Don’t ask me why, I just didn’t. Maybe I thought that I would always be too young to have grandchildren? Yeah, well that moment has passed by on a fast bike – so here I am about to ‘mention’ them – grandchildren that is, not fast bikes.

Something else that I never thought I would do is play ‘games.’ I don’t mean monopoly or leapfrog or stuff like that, been there and done that, no, I mean games that you play on a tablet. In my opinion they are as time-wasting and pointless as anything else that I find time-wasting and pointless but …and this is where I link to the grandchildren…

Grace, 3, whose first words on entering granny’s house are, ‘Can I take my clothes off?’ (weird even by my standards) had a tablet for Christmas and insisted that I had a go at Panda Pop. Panda frigging Pop, I ask you. This caused great shrieks of fun and barely hidden scorn as grandma couldn’t pop a panda, and this was on level 8 after Grace had achieved all previous levels!

Soooo, Richard suggested that he put Panda Pop on his tablet and then grandma could practise in the week and show Grace how much she’d improved by the next time she came over. Big deal. Later that evening – in the middle of me ridiculing someone on The Voice – Richard passed his tablet to me and said, ‘Well go on then, get practising, Grace will expect you to be at least on level 10 by next weekend.’

Cheeky sod. Even I could do better than that. Do you see what he did there? He threw down a subliminal challenge, knowing that I am one of the most competitive people alive.

Long story short …I found myself addicted and merrily and greedily set about releasing all the dear, sweet little pandas from their prison bubbles, until …level 89. Then I got stuck …for 2 days.

Fortunately, Jake and Grace were due over last weekend so I explained to Jake that I couldn’t achieve level 89 and he set about helping me. It took him a few goes but he did it by storing up all the thingamabobs that you aim (haven’t quite mastered the lingo yet) and blasting the whole thing.

I cannot describe to you the look on his little face. It was one of those moments that you would like to capture in a bottle and to keep for all time. Priceless. The pride he oozed was almost palpable.

I have now trotted on from level 89 and I’m on level 112. I say this with a huge degree of embarrassment because I really do think these things are a waste of time, but hey-ho, until someone deems otherwise I actually do have the time to waste. If only I wasn’t so sodding competitive. Mind, I am a Scorpio, so our boredom levels are pretty low. Next week it could be something else.

I’m not sure how Jake and Grace view me. I think it’s a mixture of mad and fun. But then, most people view me that way …if you remove the fun bit.

I guess telling them that Little and Flight (chucks) have started laying cream eggs didn’t help. Grace’s eyes were as big as saucers as she said, ‘Really, Grandma, wow?’ Jake took a split second before he rolled his eyes and said, ‘Not really, Grace. It’s a trick, isn’t it Grandma?’

I wasn’t prepared to say one way or the other so I just winked. These children believe in Santa and The Tooth Fairy, so why not chucks that lay cream eggs.

Of course, Richard had to breeze up and say, ‘Blimey, I bet the silver paper hurt their bums when they laid those.’

Silly Richard.

Anyway, time and tide and all that. Must dash. I need to blitz level 113…or not!

Take care my lovelies2015-01-24 08.34.06