Eeeek, Grrr, and... Don't Talk To Me like That..

On first sight this a.m. the garden looked naked. Eeeek I thought as I stumbled around in jimjams.
Need a rake, new arms and a bit'o dry weather to clear this lot up. Trees, when shaved, leave such a mess and in amongst the mess, heartbreak and trauma.
...A branch of the newly planted Photinia Red Robin had been badly bent and several collared doves now have nowhere to hide/breed or sleep.
I almost cried.
But soon recovered with a loud vocal promise in the direction of the birds, for more feeding stations.
That's better.

Then...

Upon arrival at Sainsbury's (ground floor car park) I discovered I'd forgotten my purse. Grrrrrr.


I immediately phoned bed ridden Mother in order to ascertain the whereabouts of the aforementioned purse. Did I leave it on her bed as we chatted gaily this morning, was it still on the draining board where I remember seeing it as some milk microwaved or was it on the dressing table amongst all the slap? I just HAD to know.

I phoned Mother...

Ring ring, ring ring....."WHAT DO YOU WANT?" my little weak mum bellowed.
"Don't talk to me like that" I said barely hiding my pain/disbelief.

I told her about the purse.

It wasn't on her bed under the many magazines. She said.

I didn't expect her to run to all rooms looking so I promised I wouldn't forget the bloody Haddock and hung up.

Home. To an apologetic Mother and purse on the pouffe. How it got there I don't know. But I suppose when one has a late night (11p.m.) one can't be expected to be chipper the next day:(

I have a few things to attend to this afternoon.

One being the cooking two different dinners (mum doesn't want what Mr H and I want) the other being the search and rescue of my physical and emotional health.

:)

By the way I think David Beckham SHOULD be included in the Olympics.
Alright?