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Tuesday 27 October 2020

I am such a...

Tart!  There I’ve said it.

I am writing this behind Ludlow’s answer to Trump’s wall.  My writing recliner is surrounded by books of an organical kind.  That nice. Mr. Google Esq. V.S.O.P. has kindly arranged for me my very own reinstated Boeing 737 Max.  No worries it might drop out of the sky showering the local hoi polloi with hardbacks, he will have sold more first editions from his expansive library so what does he care?  Added to which these piddling delivery drones aren’t man enough to take on The Tart of the Teme and her latest needs and wants.

It’s fuelled by my latest pash. the allotment.  My first move in this operetta in three parts is to purchase a bench.  Yes, a bench, necessary for the planning stage obv.  The manservant will be instructed to nip across the road at regular intervals with silver trays of, depending on the time of day, beverages of tea, coffee, tea, Harvey’s Bristol, Gin and It and a nightcap of a stiff single malt.  All the while allowing me the time to plan. Also giving him a break from my constant ‘I want!’ whining.

I wish I could blame it on the virus instead of the Bossanova, sadly I can’t.

Calling me a daft tart, the husband is often found with his head in his hands saying 

‘What have I done?’



10 comments:

  1. A bench, eh?
    I think, I have you figured out, you want the bench so you can sit on it while directing the man what to dig, pull and plant. I have to admit the bench is an important item to have, you'll needed to rest your painful back between digging, pulling and planting.
    When I do gardening now.... I have always a chair in my work area, I have 5 years on you....so I deserve to sit down now and then.....
    Maybe on one of your scavenger hunts you'll get lucky and find something you can use as a bench. lol

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sadly MG that isn’t how I operate. I am very much a soil under my nails gardener, all my life I’ve been a tomboy. I lead from the front, woe betide any one with the frailty of being human. The bench arriving today will allow my rotund bott to sit back and view my hard graft. On occasions I will
      instruct the staff as to my wishes, nay demands. Even the footman is getting restive with the idea of tilling the soil, himself a pen pusher to the core! I am after a table now as Debbie below has suggested. The local skips are all aquiver with being violated by yours truly...

      LX

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    2. You can see Moni how the excitement levels are rising? Sorry calling you by my other stalwart followers name... Sorry. This is what happens when you fire off replies without checking...

      LX

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    3. I was just about to say are you using my name in vain? :D x

      Delete
  2. A small table to hold your refreshments would be helpful to rest your elbows on as you make big plans.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yup, it is on the list. The more battered and ancient the better. Trouble is in these parts rust is so very NOW and demands a premium.

      LX

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  3. It's a wonderful undertaking, and with the abundance you will flower the rooms of Ludlow.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Already the greenhouse is stuffed with flower plantlets poking through the soil thinking... this can’t be right, too blooming cold! Get ahead of the game is my motto.

      LX

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  4. Sounds like a plan. Just remember you're not a spring chic and backache will abound if you don't sit and contemplate enough on said bench! Can I just say, in case offence is taken that a chic leaves spring chiciness in the first bloom of youth!! ;D x

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I replied to this the other day and as my ‘knee pad isn’t always responding to my wishes, I got cross and in a hissy fit flouncy oft, completely forgetting I still hadn’t replied... sorry. Whether it works this time is anyone’s guess?

      Old boiler more like, sadly.

      LX

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