Sunday has traditionally been my day for domestic chores, as Julia spent seven years years rising at 5am to start work at 6.00. As I was her driver (there are no buses at that time) it made sense for me to start work rather than going back to bed (though this was a guideline rather than a strict rule). That is how Sunday came to be the day for laundry, shopping and cooking in advance.
Thanks to a council decision to stop paying overtime (because you really want to get up at 5am and work 10 hours for the same hourly rate as the people working 9-5 during the week, don’t you?) we decided it would be a good time to call it quits. It had served us well when we were running the group on the farm but we had other jobs now and although we miss the money, we like having Sunday free. The pay cut wasn’t due to come in until next year but there were a couple of other factors, including aggression from customers, which helped make the decision.
Until that time Julia had only had Wednesdays off and so I negotiated that for myself when I started work in the shop. I’ve worked a couple of Wednesdays recently, as holiday cover, and Julia was on jury duty last week. She’s on jury duty next Wednesday too, and I’m in hospital to the the arthritis specialist the Wednesday after that.
That’s why we decided to sideline the Sunday chores and head off for the coast today. It looked from the weather map as if the middle of the day would be dry and that proved to be the case,
It rained in Nottingham before we set off but was dry all day until we started back. We drove through some moderately heavy rain for about half an hour just outside Boston, but that was all. On our return to Nottingham we found standing water, which suggests they had more rain here than we had at the coast.
We didn’t set off early, and we were home in daylight, so it was a nice relaxing run in the countryside, with fish and chips and a visit to a craft fair where Julia bought a cushion. She likes cushions. It’s one of those strange woman things. I’m a man – I don’t actually understand what they are for. If you have a bad back roll up a towel. There are no other possible uses of cushions.
If you want something to throw, to cover a stain on a chair or to decorate a room – use a book.
The photographs were meant to be from a Community Garden in Sutton-on-Sea. There aren’t many of them as I forgot there was no card in the camera. Every time I do that I swear I will never be so stupid again. I think this is the third time I’ve done it.
These are a few photos of the flowers in the garden – I did manage to get them out of the camera in the end.
I also dropped my glasses in the garden whilst taking the pictures an said to myself: “Leave them and take the photograph. Just remember to pick them up before you go.”
I didn’t remember.
Fortunately they only cost £2.
This is a memorial bench from the garden. The 1 WFR is 1st Battalion Worcester and Foresters Regiment, an amalgamation of the Sherwood Foresters and the Worcestershire Regiment. After further amalgamations they are now The Mercian Regiment.
I looked him up when I got home. Martin Robinson was 21 when he was shot by a sniper in Londonderry in 1972.
I’m almost tempted to make a political statement here, but I won’t. I will, however, make one comment. He was somebody’s child and his life was cut short because of decisions made by politicians. The same could be said about every one of the 3,532 people killed because of the troubles between 1969 and 2001.
Maybe we should take a moment and think about that.
Unfortunately, I can’t get the photos out of internal memory. Leave it with me, there may be some by tomorrow…
As you can see, I did get them out of internal memory. Not sure if it was worth it so I have left a few of the space-fillers in.
Oh, these senior moments get worse!
