The garden is looking bigger.
My cake tin however, is almost empty!
Graham arrived in shorts and flip flops and proceeded to work till he dropped. And all for a few fairy cakes. Bless him.
As he raked I baked, and the more I baked, the more he ate. But a few iced fancies are worth a couple of hours work in my opinion.
In between filling the green bin and ripping up weeds...
We yakked... about our youth, racism and the benefits of the Clematis. And while all this went on, soul filled the airwaves, he tried in vain to join in with Mr Wonder but broke into a coughing fit which needed more tea and a soothing word.
Then out he went again, this time to clean the slabs surrounding the rockery, my God he got muddyfied, so with him being built like a Michelangelo statue and me being slave-like, I offered him a bucket of hot soapy water in which he could dunk his enormous feet.
In they went and before I could say Master, I was in a puddle soaping his toes. It's funny you know how simple necessities like the cleansing of feet can make fools out of us all. He gurgled like a baba as the scented water turned black as I whispered sweetly about his hard skin.
He's a good egg is Graham, not too bright but well quipped for manual work.
Cooking tonight:
Eggs and bacon
One fairy cake
Forgot to make the Bolognaise :(
*Footie soonie oh goody
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