It being quite a nice day, her indoors announced she was away to do a little light gardening and that I should also be excited as my services would be required.
I've typed about weeds before, here and here so I wasn't, despite her predictions, all that excited.
With my aim to be to get it over with quite quickly, I stepped into the flower{?} bed she indicated to make a start.
"Be careful not to step on my best plant just behind you." she called out in alarm.
I stepped carefully, and wrongly, backwards the better to see what it was I mustn't tread on.
Looking down I enquired, "This one?"
"No, not that."
"Okay. This one?"
"No, not that."
"Okay. Which one then? I can't see anymore here." Was my puzzled response.
"The one you be standing on."
I lifted my foot to see a snapped and trampled ex growing thingy.
"Ah, that one! Doesn't look too damaged, right? Lucky really as it's broken off near the bottom so I'm pretty sure it'll just bounce right back." But her daggery look suggested otherwise.
"Does this mean you're going to sulk and not talk to me for the rest of the day?"
With that question eliciting no answer whatsoever, I quickly finished the weedy jobby, unsupervised, showered and enjoyed an unexpectedly peaceful late afternoon way down my corner of the sofa.
This must, coupled with yesterdays events, be irrefutable proof that clouds do indeed have silver linings.
Evening update; the freeze has come to an end and normal services{?} have resumed.
Quote; Mark Simpson.
“The artistic disposition is little more than an extreme form of sulking.”
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