Monday, 21 August 2017

A whiter shade of pale...

Being a conscientious kind of gal, I decided yesterday that it was to be a case of jobs first, playtime second.  The weather forecast yesterday was sun till 5.00pm, so I was looking forward to a little sunbathing in the afternoon to avoid looking like a cotton bud on holiday next week.  The jobs on my Pink List were ironing (acceptable) and digging up two beds of potatoes (dubious job ownership as physical effort is required with a tool). 

The ironing I had managed to complete before anyone else in the house woke up (actually, this was just the husband who is partial to  lay-in on a Sunday morning).  When he finally surfaced, there was a small discussion as to who was doing what on the job front.  The husband would mow the lawns (sniffling a little as he pushed the mower over the destroyed front lawn, I'm sure), while I would dig up the potatoes.

Dressed in the obligatory shorts, wellies and t-shirt, and armed with a colander and a wheelbarrow,I headed over to the allotment with the dogs in tow.

Two hours later, I'd dug over one bed and had half a wheelbarrow of potatoes to show for it.  I was having a great time, and Reg, ever the helpful one, had got the idea of what I was doing, and was digging for the buried treasure also.  Mind you, he was also then eating them, so not much help really. He was also careless where he was digging, which meant as I was bent over with my back to him, my shorts and drawers were being sprayed with dirt and the odd worm.

Having done the first bed, I looked at the second, and decided it was too much for me. I'm just a woman for heavens's sake, so as you can imagine, when I saw the husband come round the corner with a flask of tea, I was more than relieved.  Ecstatic would be a fairer description I think.  So after our short break, the husband removed the fork from me, and dug over the second bed, revealing spud after spud after spud after spud.

I stopped in at a neighbour's on the way home, and handed over a bowl of potatoes, corn on the cob and tomatoes. 'What's this for?'  asked her husband.  'Well you bring us food on Eid, so I thought I'd bring you some allotment offerings round', I said.

Frowning, my friend's husband looked at my offerings.  'The stuff I bring you is cooked', he said...

I eventually made it home after ten minutes of what I think the kids call 'banter'.  I slipped the bikini on, hauled out the deckchair, slapped on some factor 20 and laid back on my deckchair, fully aware that I had earned the nap I was about to have.

And then the sun went in.  

And stayed in...