Under rotten decking

Much of the day spent in the garden, led and supervised by Lorraine, who likes this sort of thing, pulling up rotten decking to reveal an uneven concrete base with a water drain cover which had lain illegally concealed beneath the decking. At least there were no skeletons.

Also cutting back rampant honeysuckle, full of ancient birdsnests, and which rained a fine sort of dust that inflamed my already coldy sinuses and sore throat. I just don't think I have the temperament for sustained labouring.

A spot of shopping and then an evening spent blamelessly in front of the TV with Lorraine eating a roast, and watching the splendid Wallender with Kenneth Branagh, who I've always thought of as a bit of a tosser (technical critical term) being absolutely mesmerising as the conflicted Swedish sleuth, who radiates waves of aloneness. Also Match of the Day, with the mighty Chelsea winning and, even more enjoyably, Manchester United losing. Texted Anton with a humourous quip, but to date have received only silence in return.

Comments