In the wet garden

After talking myself hoarse with Mum and Dad, I was feeling a bit better this morning so I decided I could finally do something in the garden. This was made a lot easier by the fact that the rains stopped for a bit and the sun made an appearance.

A couple of weeks ago, we bought a standard fuchsia and it has sat, morosely wedged between two of the patio chairs, avoiding the wind but collecting water. I noticed on the weekend that it didn’t look too happy in its confinement and said as much to Mirinda who told me where it needed to go. This was on Sunday and, unusually, I remembered the location.

I’d prepared the bed already (the bed doesn’t have a name except it’s the closest to the patio) and it was just a matter of digging a hole, dropping in some chicken poo and then plonking the plant on top. While it’s quite tall, the fuchsia isn’t really that big so this wasn’t what you’d call in any way, hard work.

Almost immediately, the plant looked happier (that could have been my imagination – what is the floral version of anthropomorphism?*) and, spurred on by my success and feelings of continued well being, I decided to feed the birds.

We have a lot of feeding stations in our garden so this isn’t as simple as grabbing a handful of seed and tossing it on the grass. By the time I’d finished, I was exhausted and needed a jolly good lie down.

So, the net result of my labours (apart from a happy plant and well fed birds) was the knowledge that my cold was still clinging to my insides like a fox with a chicken. I felt like rubbish again.

So the rest of the day was devoted to snooker, medicine and dozing off during the more exciting moments of play (Mirinda would probably say that I clearly couldn’t have dozed much).

Late in the afternoon I did manage to put away the clean washing but even this wore me out and I needed a rest afterwards. Stupid cold!

A Nicktor Night was planned for tonight but, in a rare moment of wisdom and sense, I’d postponed it until next week. Nicktor was very understanding though obviously disappointed.

And my blips are getting a bit boring…

* I realise that anthropomorphic refers to giving ANYTHING human attributes and not just animals particularly given we do it all the time.

This entry was posted in Gary's Posts and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.