What a difference a day makes!
One day we are sweltering in the sunshine, recklessly inviting burglars in by opening all
the doors and windows, and bewailing the brown, brown grass of home - next day, it’s all thunder and lightning, pouring rain and gusty winds blowing the sunflowers over in their giant pots.
Yes, today was a proper Windy Miller day so Mr B and I did what we always do on such days and pulled up the drawbridge.
a keen, if inexpert, gardener, I can only be grateful for the rain lashing down and giving our lawns and flower beds a proper watering. This morning, for the first time in several weeks, I didn’t feel the need to share my shower with the red bucket in
order to catch water with which I could drench the plants without feeling guilty. I had quite forgotten how much more comfortable it is to be able to dance about while singing in the shower (“The sun has got his hat on...” I sang. Inaccurately)
without the risk of ending up with one foot in the bucket.
I am not so keen on the wind, though. Out into the garden I strode, crossly, this morning - still
in my dressing gown - to pull three of the sunflower pots back onto their feet. Two had survived the scary experience of being blown over but one had quite lost its head. Literally. I gathered the sunflower head and carried it sorrowfully into the living room
to show Mr B who was too busy enjoying eating his breakfast grape nuts to show what I would call an appropriate level of sympathy for the sunflower’s sad fate.
Mr B, incidentally, has just rediscovered grape nuts, adding them to the vast selection of breakfast cereals stored in our larder cupboard. I think some character in a TV programme was depicted eating grape nuts which reminded Mr B how much he enjoyed
them - consequently I was sent out on a Grape Nut Mission which was only successfully completed with the help of the Man From Ocado. The packet I bought as part of my weekly on-line shop was rather on the small side so, while professing himself somewhat pleased
with my purchase, Mr B is already asking for more and bigger next week. I do enjoy on-line shopping on the whole but I always find it difficult to assess the size of various items. This means I often find myself with packets which are either disappointingly
small (like the grape nuts) or so huge they won’t fit into the cupboard and have to sit, untidily, on the work surface till we have eaten our way through the contents.
Having pulled up the drawbridge, we obviously needed to occupy ourselves gainfully. There was such a lot I could have done. My latest knitting projects, for starters - I am trying to complete my Christmas knitting before I have to submit to shoulder
surgery which will render me knit-less for a few months. I am itching to revisit my Family History research, being encouraged / challenged / enthused by the return of Who Do You Think You Are? on TV. I could start a new jigsaw puzzle, or read the Quick Choice
book I borrowed from the library on Friday and which has to be returned within a week. I could even do the ironing? Oh, no, let’s not be foolish...
Mr B is looking for company - so I suggest that a Home Cinema Afternoon would be just the ticket. I consult the shelves groaning with our DVDs and call out a few suggestions for Mr B’s approval or (mostly) rejection. Eventually we settle on The American
President, which was the fore-runner to our all-time favourite TV programme, The West Wing. This turns out to be an excellent choice, apart from the fact that Martin Sheen, who plays the President in the TV series, is the President’s right hand man in
the film which causes us both moments of confusion as the story unfolds.
So what will tomorrow bring? And next week? Will the sunflowers still be standing strong
in the morning or will yet another lose its head? Will the brown, brown grass of home start to recover? Will I still be able to dance in the shower or will I see the Return of the Bucket? Will tomorrow see the sun back with his hat on?
Or will it be another Drawbridge Day?