By this morning we were supposed to have ticked all the boxes on the to-do list and had planned to take a trip to Bristol Zoo with Charlotte, Rob and the boys, if the weather was dry. So apart from the fact that there were still unfinished items on the list and that it was raining cats and dogs intermittently, Bumble had a very sore neck, the result of overdoing the manual work during the path construction.
A day that was going to be filled with the wonder of beautiful animals and the fun of being with C & R and the three boys, turned into one of pain and anguish. The neck problem is a legacy of a whiplash injury many years ago, but B, being B, just has to get involved with the lifting and carrying, despite being a bit prone to aches, pains and injuries.
Being the real trooper she is, she insisted on coming with me to get a few things from the shops, when she should really have been tucked up, snug and warm, in bed, being pampered by yours truly. Not a chance really, though I did manage to get her to rest when we got back home. and I think the toasted cinnamon and raisin bagel and mug of hot tea was pretty well received.
We can both learn lessons from the episode. B has to learn to take things a little bit easier when it comes to heavy manual work. She’s no old granny, although she is a granny, but nor is she the spring chicken she might like to think she is. I have to learn to look out for, and after her, though sadly I didn’t know about the neck injury until today.
Fortunately the pain is subsiding, with the help of a few painkillers. But the whole debacle could so easily avoided if we had both taken a large dose of wisdom before we started the project. It won’t happen again, I’ll see to that.
The prospect of lowering the gravel path outside the cottage by 10cm, with the help of B’s son and the children’s father didn’t exactly fill me with glee. Not that I am afraid of a bit of hard physical work, or of meeting a significant part of her past, but putting both together had seemed like it could possibly be a step too far.
Following yesterday’s little incident, the topic of responsibility has been playing on my mind. Responsibility, they say, can weigh heavy on the shoulders of some people. But that need not be the case if we all accept that each and every action we take comes with automatic responsibility.
So here we are again, it’s Wednesday and the week is already half gone. It seems that I spend half my life wishing the time away and the other half trying to slow it down. That is rather sad and a real waste. So I’m going to put that to rights.
We all know one. The person you dread meeting by the coffee machine. The one who never has a good word to say about anything. Who when you ask them how they are, gives you a list of all the things wrong with them, never a positive word about anything or anyone. A proper
Retail therapy has never been my idea of fun on a Bank Holiday Monday, so skirting the queues for IKEA we made our way through the very wet and windy streets to the Bristol Museum and Art Gallery.
Another day, another grandson, today we were blessed by a visit from Zach and his Daddy Rob. Rob is a qualified chippy, and had very kindly offered to shave the bottom off two doors, so they would close after the carpet fitting.
The recent changes in tax allowances and other social benefits have highlighted the Government’s intention to increase the strain on the weaker members of society whilst putting yet more money back into the hands of the strong.
It has been said, on several occasions, that I am impetuous. That I do things on impulse, without thinking them through as much as I should. It comes, I believe from being the eternal optimist and from seeing the good in something whilst ignoring any bad that might be lurking round the corner.
Having worked till after 10:00pm last night priming the woodwork in the hallway and then getting up at the crack of dawn to undercoat the same, we were both ready for a couple of days R ‘n R down in sunny Dorset.
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