Monday 28 January 2008

Slip Sliding Away





















The patio gate which leads onto the garden has been falling to bits for months. Son G is in his usual haste to get to football practice, whips the whole thing off. D looks at it and stuffs it between two large plant pots (To use for measuring when he intends to fix it... ah hem)To keep the dog from churning up the grass, I have taken to putting the garden seat in front of the gap, however, the two males in the household don`t do this. It has been raining rather heavily, and before I let the dog out, I notice that the chair is not in its place. Rather than have muddy footprints on the kitchen floor, I rush to replace the chair, slip backwards, and crash my head on the patio. Apparently I was knocked out, D helped me into the house. When I regain consciousness, I go into the shower, come back out, get dressed, then ask why there are clothes on the floor, have I had a fall, was it in the shower? D suitably alerted that all was not well, makes a phone call. Paramedic, A & E and doctors, then a week off work.Then, during general conversation, D mentions that there was some moss in the said same place of slipping, he laughs as he informs me that he nearly did the splits last week. I tell friend D, she thinks that I should sue him.

The gate is still not fixed, but D has bought slats of wood from Wickes, not having any wood glue, he has used a tub of adhesive from my craft bag????? Well, I wonder how long that will hold. He has the four outer pieces in place, in a wobbly kind of fashion, then reaches for the part which is supposed to fit diagonally through the middle, it`s two inches short "Well, how`s that, I measured it." I suspect that he hasn`t actually used a tape measure here, maybe held it up against the old piece? The creation is placed in the garage, he notices that my camera is on the tripod, sits on the sofa, wedges it in front of himself and takes snaps of the TV. So, we have evidence of his favourite saying in action. "When in doubt, do nowt."

I make a trip to the Post Office with a parcel for a friend. Standing in the queue, two older women in anoraks, reading a newspaper (Red top) "Have you seen how many immigrants they are letting in?" "Ship them all back I say, no questions asked, don`t listen to any excuses of hardships, get the lot out." They look around at me to include me in their little conference. I ignore them, but am biting my tongue to remind them of slavery, colonisation and cheap labour, but I`m third from the front, so I don`t bother. Maybe I should have invited them around to ours for a nice cup of tea, picked by workers who get a pittance. I could direct them in via the patio?

I do agree to some extent that the immigration laws are too lax, criminals should be sent back, but lets not forget how this country has such an easy lifestyle, you reap what you sow. She is being served at the counter, friend in tow, the assistant asks her how the family are "Ok, but my husband is waiting for a hip replacement" the asistant replies "That`s not good, but never mind, when its done he`ll be full of energy and raring to go" "I hope not. " she replies "I`m used to getting out and about without him." She pops a parcel on the scales "For Australia" she says. I wonder if there would be any space for her aboard a convict ship?

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