I’d been writing for so long that I realised people would think I was ancient so, a few years back, I came up with a cunning plan – I’d knock ten years off my age. Nice people would say I looked fine and not so nice might think, or even say, ‘She’s had a hard life if she’s only **.’
I then realised my daughter would have been born when I was ten so I told her to take ten years off too. That meant the grandson, Dan, needed to drop a decade. I broke the news. He was nine at the time.‘That’ll make me minus one,’ he wailed. ‘I don’t want to be minus one.’
He didn’t get a choice. The following year, on his tenth birthday, I sent his Mom a card saying, ‘Congratulations on the birth of your Baby Boy!’
And there’s more…
We’ve been laying slabs and stones around a tree stump and underneath it all placed a membrane which is supposed to stop a lot of weed growth. Yesterday we noticed that a large chunk of uncovered membrane was missing. It was semi-circular and looked as if something had chewed through it. Then, last night I spotted the culprit. A little fox. I shooed him away and then felt guilty. The membrane is soft and probably makes a cosy blanket wherever he lives. I wondered if he’d come back for the remainder of the roll. He could bring a mate and they could take an end each and carry it across the garden to the hole in the fence. I could even hear him saying (in Fox) to his mate, ‘Left a bit, right a bit,’ as they manoeuvred it through he gap.
And from Sue Blackburn
I'd been cleaning (no that's not the giggle although it well could be) and afterwards was in the bathroom putting on a bit of lippy as you do, and doing the old hair before going out. Tweaked to relative satisfaction I duly sprayed it. As I'm reasonably quick on the uptake in some areas I knew immediately something was not quite right. I'd used the spray polish. And no it didn't make my hair lovely and shiny.