Ah, a weekend off, lovely :).
After much fussing and faffing yesterday morning I decided to try and figure out my tax rebate self assessment thingy, without much joy. Stupid bloody websites make it so bloody confusing, you wouldn't have thought it was my own bloody money that I was trying to claim back with such difficulty in the first place would you!? Well, after some tears and a cup of tea, I retired to bed. Point number 1 as to why yesterday got off to the wrong start. I wasn't very focused you see, I normally need about 3 days worth of planning to sort my weekend out, and to top it all I wasn't feeling particularly well. I was due to go and see a friend and her two little headaches, but as I decided that being grumpy was the only way forward I said it was probably better if I postponed it to another day. As gardening always cheers me up I went in pursuit of my trowel and tackled the beds. The rear garden was fairly simple and didn't take long, I trimmed the edges and swept the path and was very pleased with my efforts. Stepping out the front door however, I felt a slightly different sense of 'un'satisfaction. I had not weeded once since the plants went in, and funnily enough weeds share the same love of new compost as new plants tend to. So, out came the trowel again, and after what seemed like 5 hours of back-breaking labour, wrestling with many slugs (yuck) and vine weed on the way, it looked, sort of better. After a comment from one of the local dog walkers, 'that's right, he's got the right idea, let the miss'es do the hard work ha ha' pointing towards me and Tom, I felt a little perturbed so got Tom to finish it off by mowing. Then came more uncertainty as to what I should do with the rest of this delightful time off, until I heard a thump, and the buns gave me an idea. In the bath they went, together (without water) until they would damn well kiss and make up and be friends. Half an hour passed and it looked like they had given up fighting. *great smiles of joy as the little buggers had refused to bond again since being separated*
So, this morning I awoke a little more cheery, as the weekend was clearly getting better, this supported by the film Wall-E. Amazingly cute and sad and sweet and all the same time. I also had the pleasure of at last going flying with my Father, Pilot Duckworth as my sister has named him. I won't pretend that I didn't feel like throwing up my Cheerios, or that my face hadn't lost all its colour, but I actually really enjoyed it. I am very proud of my hard-working Dad for regaining his Private Pilot's license, as I can now appreciate how blooming difficult it must be. We were only up in the air for an hour, but it was still plenty of time to appreciate the views over Oxford.
'Golf, Lima, Romeo, Echo, Echo Out.' Roger that.
