There are, today, three able bodied - in fact, some would say, strapping - young men in my house. There are, in my garden, three broken fence panels and one trellis which has been smashed to smithereens by the wind and my neighbour's kids. I really want the fences and trellises secured. I don't even care too much what they look like and I have offered the deposit on a Bestival ticket (which let's face it will probably end up being the whole ticket) in return for even a bodge job. But the response has been less than enthusiastic. One is watching cricket, one is on his i-phone and the other on is on his PSP. All activities which left unattended can go on for hours, if not days. The consensus is, the fence can't be repaired. Why can't it? I'm too old and tired and busy to mend the fence. I'm not interested in it, I don't want to go and buy things for it. I just want it to be whole. Most people have fences...why is it so hard for me to have one? WHY?
Anyway here are a couple of the photos Charlie helped me take yesterday, of Ophelia. I couldn't borrow a decent camera so I had to use our awful one which shows the tones in reverse and no colours at all.
They turned out pretty well I suppose, considering the taking of them was so awful and involved me barking instructions and screaming.
I have recently been having a bit of a health worry, which is exacerbated by stress. I've been trying not to get stressed about things. Can you tell?
By the way, in all the time it has taken me to write this, no-one has noticed that I am sulking. I think I will go and finish my sulk upstairs. Until Coronation Street starts anyway.