I have almost finished the arches.
They are done apart from a bit at the bottom which I might not bother about in any case, since it is below the level of the wall and in my opinion would be better served by having a flower bed constructed around it, partly because I am entirely sick of chicken wire and mud.
I have been contemplating the possible construction of a new flowerbed, but so far it has turned out to be beyond me and might have to wait until Mark’s return.
Mark has reached his oil rig, by the way, and is once again occupied with glueing it back together, in between being well fed and properly looked after, you would not find an oil rig worker balancing on a wobbly stool. Oil rig workers have a detailed code of ropes and knots and do not so much as lift a screwdriver until somebody important has assured them that it is safe to do so.
I would not exactly say that arch construction is dangerous, but I have had to apply a great deal of Germolene before I came out to work.
It is beginning to look very thoroughly splendid, and I have been assured of this by practically everybody who has walked past. Indeed, I was woken up this morning by a little girl twittering endlessly outside the window, wondering if it was a fairy house and whether or not we could have a garden like that, please Daddy, please.
I heard Daddy saying No, rather grumpily, as he continued on his way to the Co-op.
Hers was not the only comment. Whilst I was grumpily shoving handfuls of moss underneath muddy chicken wire, practically every passer-by paused to tell me what they thought of it, most of it reasonably complimentary. Several people wanted to know where I got the idea. This struck me as a surprising question, since I am not exactly sure where ideas come from, some cosmic Inspirational Deity, perhaps. Since I couldn’t really say that, the only possible answer was that I thought of it, which made them look briefly puzzled, as if they were not expecting that people think of things for themselves, and that thinking is really only done by people who are on the telly, making programmes about themselves.
Anyway, at long last the arch is beginning to look properly arch-like, green and mystical and I have spent half of this evening at work, which has been quiet, looking on eBay for a magical lantern that I could hang from it. I have found several, and have only desisted from purchasing one by the tiresome nuisance of not actually having any money at the moment. I was also longingly and covetously distracted by a small and really rather splendid clock shaped like a lamp-post, of which I have no need whatsoever, but which I would like to put on my dressing table very much. I have sent some hopeful messages about it to Mark, which he will not see because he is working the night shift, although frankly it wouldn’t matter if he did see them since he doesn’t have any money either.
I might buy the lot with a credit card and worry about it later.
This is why we never have any money and usually have a lot of worries.
I am afraid I can’t show you a picture of the splendid green arches, since I can’t put pictures on here any more, and indeed, have already lost most of the ones that were here already. I do not think I will be able to get those back even if I repair the website.
I have not got round to repairing the website. This is because the sun has been shining and there are too many things to do with life that are far more interesting than sitting staring at a computer.
I will get on with it next time it rains, probably.
