As the rain continues to fall, and I fear we are at the beginning of six months under the grey blanket of a wet winter, I find myself comforted by the fact that I don't have to go out and dig holes in someone' garden as in times of old.
It is a bittersweet comfort, as I would happily give up good weather if it meant I regained the physical attributes required to dig a hole. Especially as one of the pleasures involved in garden construction is coming home wet and muddy, and being able to shed the waterproofs for a hot shower and a cup of tea, and a pair of furry slippers.
Of course I can still go out and get wet and muddy. In fact, if I go out when it's raining, it's virtually impossible not to get wet and muddy. Unless waterproof trousers/bin-liners are worn, then a wet lap is pretty inevitable, especially as holding an umbrella means going around in circles.
And once home, it's more difficult to shed the outer layers. I have a dream that one day I will have a big enough hall/a garage and a second wheelchair to 'change into', but in the meantime it's a question of circles on the doormat and an old rag before I can get back into the house.
And furry slippers are just wasted on me these days.
Oh, and if you are wondering about the title of this drizzly missive, it was a flash of sunshine that filled the room when Penny showed me a garden ornament described thus. I mean, at least we aren't using the world's finite resources to fill our lives with useless junk...
It is a bittersweet comfort, as I would happily give up good weather if it meant I regained the physical attributes required to dig a hole. Especially as one of the pleasures involved in garden construction is coming home wet and muddy, and being able to shed the waterproofs for a hot shower and a cup of tea, and a pair of furry slippers.
Of course I can still go out and get wet and muddy. In fact, if I go out when it's raining, it's virtually impossible not to get wet and muddy. Unless waterproof trousers/bin-liners are worn, then a wet lap is pretty inevitable, especially as holding an umbrella means going around in circles.
And once home, it's more difficult to shed the outer layers. I have a dream that one day I will have a big enough hall/a garage and a second wheelchair to 'change into', but in the meantime it's a question of circles on the doormat and an old rag before I can get back into the house.
And furry slippers are just wasted on me these days.
Oh, and if you are wondering about the title of this drizzly missive, it was a flash of sunshine that filled the room when Penny showed me a garden ornament described thus. I mean, at least we aren't using the world's finite resources to fill our lives with useless junk...
"as I would happily give up good weather if it meant I regained the physical attributes required to dig a hole. "
That's an interesting concept, and I read something about this many moons ago. We often hear people say they'd give their right arm (not sure why it's always the right arm) for such and such. But what WOULD they genuinely give up in order to have what it is they want??
YAY, my books have finally arrived; I've already had a good chortle.