“I laugh because I must not cry. That is all. That is all.”
To say our current travails with the building project have taken their toll would be an understatement. At times over the last few weeks I have just caught myself before having an attack of the vapours. After taking a long hard look at my finances least week I decided that we could continue, albeit on a very tight rein, joking that it would be ironic if the garage adjoining our house, which does not belong to us, came up for sale. And then on Thursday, finding a car parked directly across our front gate, I discovered the owner of the garage clearing it out in readiness for putting it on the market. For ten years I have been waiting for this moment, and now it’s come when I’m almost broke. Typical.
Immediately following this revelation the skies darkened and we experienced 24 hours of torrential wind and rain. Slugs the size of walruses started to slide out from beneath every pot and overnight two troughs of white begonias were bizarrely displaced from their shelves, landing unceremoniously on the outdoor hob. Begonias do not recover well from that kind of trauma. During the night, in between claps of thunder, I dreamt of bowler hats, pondering why no-one wears them any more. Then, this morning, what did I spy in the window of our local antique shop? A bowler hat. Probably the only time I have seen one first hand.
I don’t believe the sudden, severe change in weather or the random appearance of a bowler hat is an omen, but both have contributed to a rather unsettling feeling that’s been niggling me all day. We all like our comfort zones, me especially, and I am right on the edge of mine. The temptation is to believe that disaster lies ahead, but I suspect that’s far from the case. Whatever will be will be. In the meantime I can take control of one thing, the slugs, treating to them to an afternoon tea of little blue pellets. I can take organic and humane so far, but not when it comes to slugs and snails.
To be continued ……