Well, autocorrect didn’t like me doing THAT! Mind you, autocorrect doesn’t like me writing correct English sometimes. Autocorrect knows nothing.
Today is Bambino Bobble Wilson’s seventh birthday. He is all well and ticketty-boo, thank you for asking. I’ve been allowing him to venture outside this week, what with the weather being pleasant enough to leave the back door open. He has confined his cautious perambulations to the courtyard and laundry, and sitting proprietorially on the back door step, eyeing up his potential kingdom. Occasionally, Nell will spot him and give chase but she has mostly been up the top of the garden with me, climbing into the hedges in pursuit of birds. Her, not me. I’ve been continuing in my efforts to cut back the overgrowth, and doing rather well, although I do say so myself.
I was on my knees in the final patch of ground elder on Wednesday, giving it what for with the garden shears, when my dental practice called to say there was cancellation within the next hour and would I be able to make it there in time for a minor repair to a back tooth? Yes, said I, because I’d already been waiting five weeks for the repair and the earliest they’d been able to fit me in had been 13th May but they did put me on the cancellations list, just in case. And here I was, at the top of the cancellation list, covered in garden debris, an appointment within the hour. The race was on!
The race was won! The repair was completed and I was back home within an hour and a half. I didn’t see my usual dentist but then he has a habit of being ‘off sick’ and the lady I did see was very pleasant and efficient, and besides, these days you’ll see whatever dentist is available, no arguments. I’m glad I grabbed the cancellation offer - it means I wouldn’t have to feel edgy about going to the dentist as the previously planned appointment approached, and I wouldn’t have to tolerate the avalanche of texts reminding me I had an appointment. Carpe diem! (Autocorrect didn’t like THAT, either.)
Yesterday, I turned my attention to the front garden because I was expecting the delivery of un regalo per il compleanno di Lord Malarkey which is next Saturday and I thought the Law of Sod would mean the courier would try to deliver the gift whilst I was out of earshot at the top of the garden and probably take it back to the delivery depot. And then all sorts of hoo-ha would ensue trying to organise a re-delivery, although it probably wouldn’t be THAT bad on account of Mercury behaving itself at the moment. (We’re not expecting another Mercury retrograde until August, if you’re interested. Make sure you buff up your travel plans before then. In fact, don’t go anywhere in August, just to be on the safe side.)
Eight o’clock sharp saw me re-attaching bits of Starlight Express to the front wall where they had blown free in the wind, weeding the border beneath the window - I have plans to fill it with many, many lavenders - weeding under the hedge that divides us from our neighbours, and weeding underneath the Wild Eldrics before they grew too big and I couldn’t access the ground without being scratched to death. Wild Eldric gets the prize for First Rose Bloom of 2024, by the way. Bravo!
At 10.45 a.m the birthday gift arrived and I was able to stop gardening and take Nell for a walk along the canal where she had an encounter with two grumpy swans and an aggressive greyhound. This also coincided nicely with the completion of my gardening jobs and the starting of some light drizzle which, fortunately, held off from turning into full rain until Nell and I returned home. By the afternoon I was collapsed on the sofa watching rubbish TV. It was good!
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KJ