Is it too much to ask to lie on MY sun lounger in MY thoughtfully landscaped garden in peace? I think it probably is, you know. On one side of the fence some mysterious digging works have started up. Two cherry pickers, six men and a drill.
My main issue with this is that it is the 1st of June and quite possibly the one day when lying outside on a sunlounger in any state of summer garb may be possible in this particular part of Scotland.
There are already stray bits of candy striped ticker tape fluttering in the branches of my trees. Nice touch guys.
The dog next door is now going crazy.
And I have spilt half a cup of tea over my lap as every time the drill starts or stops a family of garden birds head right in my direction, completely disregarding the need to ascend to a height taller than me if they don’t want to have a head on crash with an increasingly rosy Scottish woman. So naturally I am the one adopting the brace position in this game of bird chicken.
I’m feeling invisible (good). I’m feeling under attack (bad). The fact I’m on a diet has nothing to do with my outlook. It is only Tuesday. I could eat my own arm. Or a spatchcock house Martin or two would do. Here come the clouds.