Skivvy

This is now the third - and hopefully the last - weekend in a row that I've been treated like a common-or-garden labourer by The Parents. Worse actually, because I'm not getting paid, unless you count a tenner and a couple of bird feeders complete with peanuts and sunflower seeds - I just know what'll happen if those get put up in the garden, bloody Beaky will think it's an invitation to make my life a misery again!

At least there was no concreting involved this time. I only had to assist The Father put up a potting shed (on last weeks concreted base) for The Mother. However, there was a lot of hammering involved, plus fetching, carrying, pointing, holding, steadying, ummm-ing, aaah-ing, nose-wiping (my own - it was very cold outside) and removing-spiders-from-where-glass-should-be. Oh, and some sweeping, folding and shivering (I did mention it was very cold, didn't I?) afterwards. I did try getting some pouting in, too, but I ended up squinting because the sun was blinding me what with being so low in the sky.

Anyway, I roared home as fast as Car could safely manage it, ran a hot bath and luxuriated in its Rosemary scented*, soothing water for an hour or so, incidently writing this post as I did so.

Car needs a soak, too, but it takes up too much room in the bath...

* The herb. Not the madam down the road. * shudder *