A Fresh Start

Where were we? Oh yes, I was sorting our my Saturday night, wasn’t I?

Well, I’d forgotten to mention the Mystery of the Lawn. When I’d arrived, I’d glanced out the back and had seen a lawn with three weeks’ of growth - it had been “too wet” last weekend for Wuglums to trim it, apparently.

After making the plans for the evening, I was in the kitchen doing something or other (I forget) when I glanced up. I couldn’t believe my eyes, so I rubbed them. Still there, so I went out for a closer look.

This is what I saw.

I stood, puzzled, until I heard a voice from behind me. It was Trixi, wife of Dunk and dad’s next door neighbour.

“Dunk¹ was doing our grass so he did your dad’s too. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? I should think not!” … as long as he’s not going to bill us £165 an hour for his work¹.

As I was about to leave, Anni sent me a text asking me to pick up some drinks, so I called into Tesco … and nearly got into a fight.

It wasn’t my fault. Honest.

There I was with two items standing in the queue for the 10 items or less till. Two items, ok? I didn’t pay much attention to the big bloke in front of my until he started unloading his trolley. When he got to 14 items I started to count aloud, stopping, when he did, at 23. Twenty three, for goodness’ sake. Even though he’s clearly numerically challenged, his glower gave me the distinct impression that he didn’t seem to appreciate my attempt to teach him to count. In view of his aforementioned “big”ness I decided to let the matter go … this time … but decided to suggest that Tesco double the cost of the shopping of any shoppers who take too make items to the “express” tills.

Anni was amused by my irritation.

“What difference did it make?”

“Well, I’d have been out about three minutes earlier.”

“Three minutes? That’s nothing.”

“I’d just like to point out that for some men, three minutes is everything.”

I let the matter drop (again) and we relaxed in the back garden with that traditional birthday feast of pizza, chips and curious garlic bread. Even KK put in an appearance and posed for me.

…

Sunday dawned bright and warm. Well, “hot” if you want to be precise. A perfect day for a short photo-safari, but where should I go? I leapt into the Em3mobile and headed off to seek inspiration. I headed westward, to the largest sand dune in Europe. I wandered off in search of the “Big Dipper”, as it’s supposedly known locally.

Half an hour later and I’d not found the dune. What’s more, I had the awful feeling that I wasn’t 100% sure of the route back to the Em3mobile. Eek.

All this sand … and heat … I had visions of being discovered, a sand-blasted skeleton, in 2037.

Would I ever find my way out?

Well, of course I did. I headed for the hospital but found myself there twenty minutes too soon, so I popped over to Cosmeston (again) for a couple more snaps.

The journey home was long and slow and I was ‘zausted by the time I got back to my own bed.

Today was just another day at work but tomorrow promises to be different. Horrible, but different. It’s Tizzy Time again. I wonder whether she’ll have got me a belated birthday present …

¹ Dunk is also Dad’s solicitor.