A late night last night, so I was hoping for a lie-in. But that vicar was clanging his bell at silly o’clock again. It annoys me that the public will be up in arms if a pub full of people are the slightest bit rowdy for five minutes at chucking out time. The newspapers will be running all sorts of outraged editorials, and the council will close the place down. But half a dozen superstitious “normal people” are allowed to clang their bell for over half an hour early on a Sunday morning. And because it’s “religious” the council are scared to do anything about it.
So having been woken, I lay there for an hour. With backache. Listening to the bell and the rain. I did feel a bit guilty - I really ought to borrow a ladder and do some work on my flat roof. But the roof needs to dry out a bit first. And we’ve had rain every day for the last month. And there’s a shed I’ve promised to paint in Folkestone, but it too is wet. So I contented myself with spending half an hour mending the fence at the end of the garden during a break in the rain.
There may be one or two of my loyal readers who may recall an entry from October 2006 when I cut a fence panel to fit the gap at the end of my garden. To quote myself: “Let’s hope the fence stays up” There was also a blog entry from this year (February) when I bodged a custom-length lump of trellis. I’m amazed how long my bodged fence has lasted, but today I had to do a little maintenance on it. Some of the panels were working loose, but nothing that a serious wallop with a hammer couldn’t put right. I then pruned back next door’s clematis and roses whilst next door told me about the fox in his garden that jumps over the fences. He seems rather upset about having a fox in his garden. I suppose I would be too, if I had one. The lawn needs mowing, but that can be a job for another time. Am I seriously thinking about mowing the lawn in December?
The doorbell rang – Jehovah’s witnesses. Normally I love having the “Rovers” round – they are great fun to wind up. But this time it wasn’t fair. They’d sent two little old ladies, both of whom must have been well into their eighties. You can’t be mean to a dear sweet little old lady. But I didn’t buy a “Watchtower” from them.
And then I printed off the latest letter to the chokey. There is a minor problem – I’ve lost the answers to the crossword puzzle I sent up with last week’s letter. I can remember what “A sailor who prefers to navigate the
Looking back through my blog I see that the last few Sundays have been rather dull. Today was no exception.
Meanwhile “Gervais” is leaning on the lamp post at the corner of the street. I can’t help but wonder what he expects might come by.