Cutting the excitement

Sunday June 26, 2005

Today started out much the same as yesterday—writing session, breakfast, snooze, lunch, snooze—and was looking set to end similarly except that a restlessness particle hit me in the evening.

“I think I shall go and clean the filters on the pond, Dolly,” I said. “Do you think you can manage without me for a bit?”

Didn’t get an answer. She was asleep, so I wasn’t overly surprised.

So, anyway, I ventered out into the warm, sunny evening, did battle with the filter housing, and played lovely muddy green games with the filter pads until I’d got most of the gunge out of them. The pump worked much better after than, issuing a stream of clean, bright water that sounded cool and soothing. And cleaning a good deal of the green from the body of water in the pond. High maintenance things, fish ponds. Ours is less so since the early morning visits of the local heron, but some fish remain, and they mess the thing up dreadfully. We’ll have to empty the whole pond out and scrub it in the autumn but not now, not while the waterlilly is in full bloom.

Then I went on to water all the pots, containers and hanging baskets, and to dead-head the thriving petunias and geraniums that seem intent on providing a blaze of colour but will stop doing so the instant they’re allowed to set seed.

That job done, I stood, hose in hand, looking at the little blue car. To clean, or not to clean? Nah, to hell with it. No point having the dirtiest car in Lincolnshire if you go doing daft things like cleaning it.

I tested for the continued effectiveness of that restlessness particle. It seemed satisfied, at least for the moment, so I coiled the hose, shut up the garage, and went back indoors. Dolly was still sound asleep.

“Did ya miss me, Dolly?” I said.

You can imagine the answer I didn’t get this time.

So, I sighed, and prepared my dinner. A little earlier than usual today because I have my annual fasting blood test tomorrow morning and I don’t want to have to lie to the phlebotomist when she asks “Have you starved yourself properly?” She’s a fearsome lady, and I’m convinced she’d know I was telling fibs. Besides, I’m really rather interested to see the figures this time. I think I’ve been doing exceptionally well on diet management this year, and hope that my cholesterol count will be well down. It’s been running below the magic five for some years now but I’d like to see it closer to four than it has been.

Lawks. You could cut the excitement around here with a knife.


Petunias, Stickford, Jun 27,'05
Pentunias, sans onions



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