18 thApril.

18/04/2007
08:09
Half decent sleep, woke up to what looks like is going to be a glorious day, clear sky and strong sunshine. Slight feeling I could murder a smoke but will pass.
I think Father is going to be making an appearance today; he did ring yesterday but to be truthful I cannot remember a word of the conversation; that’s what happens when people get me out of bed! Plus I think the effects of the tablet were still upon me.
Would be nice sat outside on the grass, cup of tea and cigarette in hand, but that’s not going to happen.
I really, really must get back into course work, would be stupid to lose interest now when I’ve done more than three quarters of the course,
Will get today under my belt and see if my father and I can exist in close proximity without falling out.
Would really like a smoke right now, thinks me.
Even before I got out of bed I was thinking of what I could do with from the shop, i.e. bread and milk and of course the temptation to but baccy would then rear its head and I think I may succumb.
I look at the tips of the laylandis and there is no movement whatsoever so today is going to be a warm one.
I didn’t notice when the weather improved, possibly the first day I thought about getting the fan out to cool the room down and provide some movement in the air.
Daftest part of it all is that wintry weather is set to return this weekend. I hope the plants we are proposing to plant are hardy enough to survive. Will soon find out.
They have the same choice as we have, live or die.
13:40 Am absolutely cream crackered. My backbone is as solid as a rod of steel.
I loved the old man coming down and giving me a hand but I was glad when he left.
I’ve just spent 3 hours cutting a lawn with a pair of hand shears; quieter it may be and no doubt friendlier to the environment but its bloody hard work and I’ve a king size blister to prove the fact.
I hate grass that isn’t intended to be smoked, talking of which I would guess that I thought about having a cigarette at least a dozen times, but obviously have done without.
There’s more cloud in the skies and a hint of a Northerly breeze so I expect this afternoon to gradually cool down.
The old men had a couple of attempts at suggesting to me that I should follow the example of a couple of local councillors and have my hair cut for charity. I refused to comment and listened as he told me a couple of more haircut related tales.
In the end I told him I’d already agreed to have my locks shorn when I’m good and ready;
Truth is most of it will probably drop out before there is any significant addition to length.
He went on about my Auntie’s successful knee operation and how she would be coming home today, I asked how she would cope with the stairs and found out her flat is equipped with a stair lift; good thinking Auntie V.
On days like this when I’m doing an impression of a stick insect whilst trying to walk up stairs, I wish I had the option of gliding easily up on a seat. No I’m not that bad, yet.
He also gave me the lecture of how healthy it is for me to be crawling around the lawn on my arse, shears in hand. Good exercise, much better than sat in the chair watching TV. Everyone still refers to the monitor as a TV.
He talks about some of the week’s television viewing and I tell him I haven’t watched TV for the best part of the week, undaunted he continues.
Generally most of the work was done in silence, the sharpened spade slicing through the unyielding earth and the shears tearing at the rabbleous rank of grass tufts.
Just made that word up, quite like it. Rabbleous.
Apart from having a swearing match with the neighbour, today has gone o.k.
I explain about the argument.
I cut the turf off a section of the front garden and laid the turf underneath the hedge in the back garden, as one does to allow the grass to die and relinquish its hold on the soil until eventually the soil settles.
He said there have been comments about the heap; I told him to direct them to me and asked how many garden parties he had had in the last week since I began the project?
He then rants on about some dirt being on his doorstep and him having to clean it up!
At this point I will mention that he, being the occupant of the ground floor is responsible for the gardens and their upkeep, not me.
“What happens when the council send me a letter?” he asks,
“Refer them to me”, I answer.
He then tells me it just isn’t right and that I shouldn’t be shouting at him.
I tell him to fuck off before I pull his head off.
I cannot see why two people should be arguing about what may happen in the future, i.e. a letter being sent.
I refuse to get upset about anything on a day like today.