It is this time of year that I usually do the big change over. Winter clothes to summer clothes. Not a man thing but think many of you know what I mean. It is always quite exciting bringing out old friends. Remembering when you wore certain items, memories both good and bad. And those internal conversations – well in my case not so internal
“You are still here – bloody hell think I got you when I first left home and that was – well let’s not go there
“Ahh my beloved pink dress – I love you – you are one of my all-time favourites.”
“I am never going to be a size 10 why on earth am I keeping you? Somewhere I have my wedding suit from 36 years ago which I bought because — being the parsimonious kind of person I am — I thought, well I can always wear it again. Meanwhile I couldn’t fit one of my thighs into it nowadays.
This year the conversations are a bit different as there is absolutely no need to bring out most of the lovely dresses as I have nowhere to go. Would feel a bit stupid parading around the house in them. So, this summer my wardrobe is breathing a huge sigh of relief as I am being selective over what makes the final cut. It’s a bit sad though. And I know there was a lot of disappointment in the summer clothes chest as many of them were hoping to see a bit of daylight and sunshine. The mutterings were almost audible as I closed the chest lid.
No blog yesterday too busy gardening. And today I am feeling its effect. My gardener arrived with a wonderful array of flowers – all as a pressi. I think he feels sorry for me ever since Tod died, he has arrived with little gifts. Well I am not complaining except, of course, I had to plant them all. I spent the entire day digging and planting and by 7 in the evening I couldn’t move. I was covered in mud, my back had gone into spasm, and my knees had locked. I crawled upstairs, took a diazepam and went to bed. But the garden is looking wonderful.
I am a very proud home gardener. I have talked to all the new plants, introduced them to their neighbours, watered them and promised to come back with some food this evening. Indeed, as I walk down our road all the gardens are looking quite wonderful. This has to be the prettiest time for nature. And at this very moment, under the circumstances, there isn’t another place that I would rather be.
Toby is now busy building a gazebo to be housed in our new space at the bottom of the garden. Next, we need to order the stones which I fear are going to be very expensive. It is a project I could have done without, but I know when it is finished, I will love it. And moreover, it has given Toby a project and impressed us all with his DIY abilities. There seems to be nothing that this boy can’t turn his hand to. His father would be very proud.
Meanwhile yesterday I got a surprise social distance visit from Zak and Jake. We sat at opposite sides of the patio and shared cake, fruit and a drop of whisky. Always time for a wee dram. It was the first time I have seen Zak in nearly 3 months. His anarchic hair was a sight to behold and looked quite wonderful. The next time we are all together will be June 17 which is Toby’s birthday and the anniversary of Tod’s death but thankfully it’s not Father’s Day this year as when Tod died as well as being youngest son’s birthday it was also Father’s Day. Not a day any of us will forget.
Yesterday I read a news item – not about the COVID19 but about a woman who was out with her family somewhere in America and she found £820,000 in a bag in the middle of the road. Which she then handed into the police saying, “it was not mine to keep.” And it got me thinking what would I do? Would I too be that honest person? It’s a tough one. Clearly it didn’t belong to an individual as who would be carrying that amount of money around. It didn’t belong to a big company because it would be in a bank – so probably it was stolen. From where? a bank? How do we feel about banks? Is it ok to steal from a bank if you come by it sort of honestly…? And what will the police do with the money? If it isn’t claimed do they give it back to this woman? If not what? Imagine what one could do with this money. How many homeless could be housed? Fed? or on a more selfish note – I could buy flats for my sons…. only kidding it would be the homeless honestly. I would like to think I too would hand it in – maybe not so much out of honesty but guilt. But clearly, I have not, as yet been tested.
At this very moment it doesn’t matter how much money I have I still can’t get my hair cut or have a beautician eradicate those unwanted hairs that seem to be sprouting up in the most ungainly manner. Mindful of a woman that always sat on our bridge table and who had a proper moustache and long hairs growing out of her chin, I always said to my girlfriends if you ever see me with hairs on my face for god’s sake tell me. I mean why didn’t someone tell this woman. I think she had a partner too. As my Aunt Billee would say “other people have to look at you.” No wonder I couldn’t focus on my bridge playing I was too busy focusing on the hairs.
While I am on the subject there was another woman at our Bridge club who had an enormous black head right in the middle of her forehead. I am baring my soul here, but I have a thing about black heads. I enjoy squeezing them. I know great big yuck – but we all have something. It took all my restraint not to put my fingers up to her face and go for it. I nearly asked her once if she would mind but thought better of it.
Well this morning I looked in the mirror and I saw a hair growing out of my cheek and some upper lip stuff that is less than prepossessing. The legs too could do with a bit of an upkeep, other things, well that’s my secret because no one is every going to see them so they will be left to their natural course. Will be ordering Wax online.
In the meantime, I just might choose something from the summer collection and go and sit in the garden – at least the flowers will appreciate me.
“Let’s be careful out there”