That was the weak that was

Strange how time flies, tempus fugit indeed. There I was thinking it's Tuesday and Friday clips me round the ear. I'm sure it's an age thing, time does kinda move quicker the older one gets - doesn't at all of course, just feels that way - but you get what I mean.


I sat here yesterday, Thursday, thinking "this week seems to be going on forever" and then it's Saturday and the cup final is a mere 16 hours away. I love football. It's hard to explain to someone who has no interest, but it matters even in today's money squelching, mock-celebrity ridden, puss-filled pile of shite, that is the Premier League/Champions League, etc. I can't even afford to go to Stamford Bridge any more. I used to go every home game and many away games too, but not now. In fact when Chelsea were shit I went for five or six seasons in the 70s hardly missing a game at all. Oh well, this evening at 5.15 we kick off against our nemesis team of recent times, Liverpool and the following picture is a living breathing hope of triumph...

Barcelona 24th April 2012 - a truly magnificent night that I wish me mum had seen...

Anyway, gardening, a mildly important part of my current life. Rebecca's on Tuesday and as I mentioned in the previous post, a rather nasty welcome on the top of the drive:

Rather large old Horse Chestnut sans rather large low branch.

It took me a good three hours to tidy up and chop the lost
limb into reasonable sizes. Then I thought a nice pile might
attract some wild life, so that's what I did, made a nice pile...

Top of the drive. I've been trying to tidy it up for a while and I'm slowly
getting there. Last week I trimmed the hedge that runs along the right
hand side as you look at it here. It's oddly planted with a very random
higgledy piggledy style and, although I do kind of like it, it genuinely needs
a bit of formality introducing - but not too much... 

Billy who was Tilly. He gets on top of the highest perching
point an belts out the a cockle-doodle-do something akin
to an 11 year old boy with a breaking voice. Bless!
PS: I have renamed him Billy Elvis, 'cos his comb looks
like a quiff

Today I cut the lawns at Glassmill House in Berkhamsted, unfortunately my "friend" from the other week failed to get annoyed with the noise from the strimmer and lawn mower. I shall persevere and hope that he tries to shut me up again. He truly was a delightful man and yet his issues came before him, about 30 seconds in all.


Quick cheeky pint in the Rising Sun, home via watching Finlay at cricket training and ahhhhhhhhh... Off to sleep!


zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

I can't stand the rain...

Hello! Here we go again. After the no show yesterday I was determined to get out to work today. Every second Thursday I have four gardens to do in Hemel Hempstead - or Amyl Hempstead as my mate Phil says. I had to take out an old conifer in the first house and then went on to just do some basic weeding at another.


While weeding, two women walked by, mid-30s, non-descript I guess would be a way of describing them. "Fancy a threesome?" said one, she cackled like an erstwhile female Sid James (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aj7D65SFOhM). She stood over me, I looked up and there was a toothless grin beaming out of a face that had seen a lot of living. I smiled, "No thanks," I said and got back to the dandelions.


Don't know what she muttered as she moved on, but the word "serious" was spluttered. Shame really, don't know why I mention it, but I have become rather overtly aware of sexual harassment recently. There was a Radio 4 programme on last week called "My name isn't baby" or something like that, it talked about women being harassed on the street. Now I'm not saying I was harassed per se, but it's not a particularly nice experience; won't say it made me feel dirty, just sad that people feel the compunction to say such things. Like say, sad.

Tuesday was spent at Rebecca's place as normal. The rain wasn't too bad actually, which was nice. I moved a few more flowers and smallish shrubs around and weeded all the main beds near the house. The bed outside the kitchen window that I started to re-plant is looking quite lovely

Most of the above was elsewhere in the garden, so I'm very pleased they have all taken so well. It's a nice project and it's going to be a delight watching it develop over the year

Have I said I like a bit of brick?

That's B-R-I-C-K. If you look closely on the row of bricks ten rows up, there are a series of numbers and letters imprinted on them - see below:

These are the idents from the brick yards that made them. I believe you can even date them from the these numbers too. Little fact I picked up from a BBC2 programme called "Brick by brick - rebuilding our past", a little gem of a show, fronted by the brilliant Dan Cruickshank

And here's the drive way at Rebecca's, another little area that I have been trying to tidy up since I started there, some eight months ago.

Gosh I love my work!


And then today, Thursday. "I can't stand the rain..." indeed. Hail again, but this time I had a hat on so the hail didn't sting quite so much - I believe we baldies should have government supplied hard hats for such situations.

...who would want to harm that head?
Yeah OK...

On to Tom and Vicky's place in Aldbury and I substituted trimming the hedge for cleaning up the brick laid path and patio area at the top of the garden - did I say I like a bit of brick? A wise choice as the rain kept a-comin' and a-goin'. 

Note to self: take BEFORE pictures too!!!

And so, it's Friday tomorrow, back to Glassmill House and the delightful fella who got very outraged at the fact that I was using a leaf blower to blow leaves. Looking forward to meeting up with him again...


Happy blowing... (know-wad-eye-meen?)