I have a big plastic pot filled with earth. A few months ago I emptied a few left over seeds into it hoping for a few brightly coloured flowers. So far I have found one! I lie! That one is fading away but a similar one has developed around the far side, whoopee!
That sums up my gardening prowess.
However, this morning I went into the shop on the corner, he empties houses, and browsed around. This is like wandering around a junk shop, piled in corners of the small shop are many dust laden items that once were shiny treasures to someone long departed. Sad to say none of what I saw among these items were right for me, but I was willing something to be mine. However, as a side line he does flowers for the gardening type, and many suitable items also. Among these I found an old hoe, with which I planned to weed the front. That had to wait as he also picks up from somewhere catering sized tins of beans, tomatoes and other things, so these were of interest to me also. £8:50 later I placed my 2 large tine of Heinz Baked Beans (2.62 kgs. normal tins 400gr.) to the side, the tomato and other tins in the cupboard. The small clock only needed a battery and a rocket scientist to work out how to get it moving.
Pleased with my gains I spent time in the afternoon working the hoe across the dark shadow in the front. By the time I finished the sun had begun to come round and join us. Few passers-by offered to help, many were kids escaping from school, yelling and cheering and speeding dangerously past on the pavement on their bikes. Others more daintily wandered home, deep in thought of things of great moment, Taylor Swift, the blonde boy, holidays abroad or just chips possibly.
I shifted the weeds, dumped them in a plastic bag, broke council laws by dumping that in the wheelie bin, and leant on the hoe in a manner designed to ease the ache growing in my back. The whole idea of the hoe was to avoid this pain.
I declined to tidy up the growing pile of recycling bags. These are being recycled every other week these days, I hope the man enjoys fighting through the bundles to identify which are paper and which are everything else? Not one person here has considered separating the two now compulsory bags. It is all right coming up with these ideas, but not much thought has gone into the outworking thereof.
Piled next to them are furniture and odds and ends that those leaving have dumped for passers-by to remove. So far few have been taken. Two of our flats will soon be vacant, the man nearing retirement is moving in with a woman, drink may be the cause, and the young lass is moving who knows where, and I am not asking. One from the flats next door is leaving, as soon as she sells the flat, so more junk will appear. No-one considers who will remove it?
I am now ending the day sipping Brandy and wondering why I am so stiff...
