The weather here in good old Leicestershire has been quite nice for the last few days. Unfortunately, I’ve not really sat around in it much. The mornings have found me watering baby plants that look fine one minute and then down on their knees the next, and carefully placing slug pellets in places where the slugs can munch but nothing else can.
This, of course, leaves several areas pellet-free. None are applied in the areas where the chucks scratch, none where Chea might decide to wander, and none where other ‘visitors’ to the garden might access.
Talking of the chucks I can now state with an abundant amount of optimism that Flight has made it back to the land of the living. I honestly thought she wouldn’t make it, as day after day she seemed to be losing the will to live. Frankly, I guess I shouldn’t have used that as a ‘sign’ because even I do that sometimes but I always bounce back.
Blimey, that was a touch depressing wasn’t it? Sorry, I didn’t intend it to be.
Anyway, Flight has returned to her normal self and all, for now, is well. Little looked a bit ‘suspicious’ and I’m therefore keeping an eagle eye on her. I guess being caught by Richard carefully separating a large pooh, kindly dropped by Little on the outside mat, didn’t confirm my sanity but there you go. I won’t bore you with the details but it looked a bit ‘wrong.’
I put this return from the dead down to my Victoria sandwich cake, grapes, bananas and garlic and cider apple vinegar …but I may be wrong.
So, this is my morning routine, which leaves the afternoons to sit in the sun. Er …yes, however, my son, bless his little doodah, supplied me with the first 2 seasons of Game of Thrones, stating that, ‘I don’t know if you’ll like it, Mum, but give it a go,’ and seeing how the TV is utter crap at night, I did just that – I gave it a go.
My first impression wasn’t great. I couldn’t see how it needed quite so much blood spilled, quite so many decapitations, and I also wasn’t sure that all the naked flesh on show really added to the storyline? I was informed by my friend Philip Earland that was the genre, so who am I to ague. I stuck with the next few episodes and then I realised that I was hooked. I loved several of the characters – I won’t say which characters because one of you will kindly tell me that they die in season 4!
So, this has become my afternoon sin – I watch back to back episodes of Game of Thrones. The sun shines outside and I, pale and cuddled beneath a throw (the lounge is bitterly cold) watch Game of Thrones. Of course it came to an abrupt end as I realised that my son had missed out an episode in season 4. I had words with him and the said episode is, as I write, winging its way to me in the post. See, my son is a very obedient child and obviously loves me to bits. Either that or he just can’t stand my constant wittering, and demands, and has learnt from an early age simply to go with the flow.
Richard loves all of this. No, honestly he does. I’m centre stage in the lounge with my tea, sweeties, salted cashews, the remote control, the blood and guts, and he toddles off for a ride in the countryside on his motorbike. Then, he returns, changes transport to the car and pops to McDonalds and returns with a caramel sundae thingy. I’m actually now beginning to think that I might miss him when he goes back to work next week …YES he IS going back to work next week, after 4 months convalescing after his shoulder op. Now I shall have to do all the sodding vacuuming and stuff that he has been religiously doing day-to-day. Mind, without him the house and his bloody black socks that shed black fluff all the way up the stairs, there won’t be so vacuuming to do.
This Game of Thrones thingy has had a weird effect on me to be honest. The other day I treated myself to a new battery operated hedge trimmer (I know how to get my kicks!) and we decided to try it out. As I stood with said tool in my hands, ready to go, Richard grovelled on his hands and knees to place the tarpaulin around the conifer that was about to get ‘rounded’ (massacred.) His little head was bowed and the back of his neck clearly available. The thought ran through my mind (only for a nano second!!!!!!) that it would only take the swiftest of moves from my hand and new toy and his head would be off and rolling across the gravel….and stop with the wide eyes and the look of horror that’s spreading across your face …of course I wouldn’t really do it. I love the man. Adore him. Don’t I? And besides, it was a hedge trimmer for Pete’s sake, not a flipping chainsaw!
As I say, Game of Thrones does have an impact and probably isn’t for the easily influenced …or the faint-hearted.
So, off I trot to save a baby plant of some description, and to let the chucks out to terrorise every living insect, and then, hopefully, if episode 4 of season 4 drops through the letter box I’ll be curled up inside with my caramel sundae! Yes, I know it’s wrong. But hey-ho.
Take care my lovelies x