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21 May 2023 (Sunday) - Feeling Grim

Despite far too champagne, far too many gins and tonics, two bottles of red wine a decent helping of stout and more amaretto than sense I was still wide awake at six o’clock this morning. However (it has to be said) that I wasn’t on top form this morning… I wonder why?
I made toast in the forlorn hope of removing the taste of last night’s cigars. I do like a cigar in the evening; however you do wake the next morning feeling as though you’ve eaten the leftover ashes of a tramp’s bonfire.
 
There were quite a few photos from yesterday’s wedding on Facebook this morning. I didn’t take many photos at all, which was rather unlike me. There was also quite a lot of talk on one of the local Facebook pages about local vets. The same question comes up time and again; which is the best local vet? Pretty much every vet surgery for ten miles is mentioned with good and bad being spoken about all of them.  Surely common sense tells us that a truly crap vet will soon be shut down by the regulators… doesn’t it?
 
With time on my hands I made a start on today’s project; replacing the dead palm tree. The palm tree looked as dead as I felt, but I had this naïve idea that if I got on with my day I might chirp up a bit.
I gathered up the brindle chippings and removed the weed-resistant membrane in ten minutes, and then had quite the fight trying to extract the dead palm from the pot. Have you ever tried to shift a dead palm tree when you feel like death warmed up yourself? Eventually the corpse of the tree was in the garden waste bin. And with something of a sense of achievement we went out to get the dead tree’s replacement…
Via the town centre where we met Matt and Martin for a little bit of brekkie and a catch-up.
The full English breakfast perked me up somewhat, for which I was grateful. Mind you perking up (like most things) is (as Albert once said) relative. So only feeling “seriously grim” we went to the garden centre where we got a cornus alba “miracle, some triffid or other for “er indoors TM to forget to water, and some cake.
 
We came home, and again I thought that if I got on with my day I might chirp up a bit. It hadn’t worked earlier, but I carried on regardless. I got the lawnmowing stuff out, then “er indoors TM frog-marched the dogs inside; they’ve developed this annoying habit of attacking the lawnmower whenever I try to use it.
With lawn eventually mowed I got my cornus alba “miracle” into its pot, and picked up the weed-proof membrane just before Morgan tried to pee on it.
With plant potted I got the gardening scissors and trimmed round the edges of the paving slabs that go down the garden. I was determined to crack on with my day and chirp up a bit, even if it wasn’t happening.
And with slabs edged I then had a little weeding session.
 
Far from chirping up, after the weeding I could barely move. But “er indoors TM had arranged for the nice man to collect the wreckage of her old bike, and today was the only chance I would have to excavate it from the shed.
The shed needed a tidy-up anyway.
I found a garden hammock, a yard brush and two sledges I didn’t know I had. In retrospect we should have chucked her poggered bike out years ago, rather than sticking it at the back of the shed, and then piling all sorts of other crap on top of it.
 
By then it was mid-afternoon, every movement hurt, and I still felt yuk. “er indoors TM sorted a bag of tortillas and some fizz and we sat in the garden. I put so much effort into the garden I really need to start using it. As gardens go, it’s not a bad one to sit in reading a Kindle app.
As I read, I watched Treacle. Back in the day my Fudge used to stalk the pond fish constantly. That’s why his memorial is by the pond; he loved it there. Treacle has suddenly taken up where Fudge left off. She spent pretty much all of today walking round the pond and periodically stopping to dab at the fish.
 
Cheryl called in. Her mum had bought a patio heater… and immediately bought another better one. Did we want the first one which hadn’t even been taken out of the box yet?
The thing is still in the box. Getting it out this evening would hurt too much.
 
“er indoors TM boiled up a rather good roast which we scoffed whilst watching the first episode of the latest season of “Taskmaster”. It was rather good.
Perhaps if I have an early night I might chirp up a bit overnight?
I can still taste those cigars…

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