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More eggs, anyone?

 Today at work I was rained on all morning and steamed boiling hot in the afternoon. Such are the vagaries of the British weather. The promised thunderstorms failed to arrive, too, and I suffered three more insect bites to add to the two I got yesterday. I’ve spent the evening reading up on Best Natural Insect Repellents (because I don’t want to spray myself with Deet products from March to the end of September) and it seems I need to get hold of some lemon eucalyptus. Which I shall do as soon as possible because I am fed up with being a moving smorgasbord for vicious little bugs. 

Anyway, back to the day at work. I was with a couple of our gardening gals potting up some marigolds for a floral display when a shriek went up. 

‘Denise! Denise! What is THIS!’ 

And one of my gardening gals thrust in my face an upended (and very pot bound) marigold plant she had just turned out of its pot. 

Now, you have to bear in mind that the lovely gardening folk I support all have learning difficulties and various anxieties and phobias. These, in turn, often make their responses to things dull and inane somewhat dramatic. E.g…

‘Aaaarghhhhh…wasp! WASP!!!!’ (Exit stage left, pursued by no wasps whatsoever.)

‘It’s a slug! I HATE slugs! Get it away!!! (Exit stage left, arms flailing wildly to offset perceived slug attack.) 

‘It’s an ENORMOUS spider! As big as my head!’ (Exit stage left, pursued by a spider approximately 3mm in diameter.)

You get the idea. And don’t get me started on the worms as big as snakes and the killer bees. Sigh….

Anyway, being in a garden one can’t avoid insect life. But one CAN encourage others to calm their panicked responses to insect life by being calm oneself, for example, by allowing a wasp to settle on one’s arm, or by picking up a worm, or by not swearing when being bitten by another bastard bug. 

The subject of the shrieking was this…


….modelled by my lovely shrieking assistant in her pink gardening gloves. Do you know what they are? No, neither did we, but after a quick bit of research we discovered they were snail’s eggs! White, round and perfectly formed. 

We dispatched the eggs to a corner of the garden where birdies scuttle through the undergrowth and would probably enjoy an unexpected dollop of snail caviar, and we carried on potting up our marigold display, peace and calm once more resumed. 

It was all waaaaaay too much excitement for one day and I’m glad I had The Repair Shop, Sewing Bee AND a freshly baked scone with butter to relax with in the evening.

In other news, my Mum is knitting Christmas decorations and Harris is still punching Bambino, but with less frequency and fervour. Bambino continues to be undeterred in his quest for feline friendship. 

So that’s good. 


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