Yes, apologies for my absence yesterday but I was on 'Gardening Duties' under orders from the 'Memsahib' and yes, I do know that my, er, 'garden' is the size of a postage stamp! Even so, it required me to visit my local garden centre to choose the appropriate plants and flowers and, er, whatever else it is that you have to stick in a garden and about which I know virtually nothing. Anyway, I wandered up and down aisle after aisle of multi-different 'plant-thingies' growing ever more confused and indecisive. Eventually, bored to tears, I reached my 'fuck-it' threshold and just dumped a mixture of this, that and the other onto my trolley and went home.
And that's where the problems started!
Where to plant what, being uppermost! Also, of course, to add to my woes, the sun was blazing in a cloudless sky and it was hotter than the end of Runway #2 at Bahrein Airport where I once spent a happy (not!) year! Even so, with true British pluck I set about my horticultural duties - who sniggered? Mind you, it took a great deal of concentrated thought, requiring several cups of tea, for me to decide where everything should go. Eventually, the 'Memsahib', er, 'indicated' that she was not going to serve any more tea, or lunch, or dinner until I finished the '#########ing' planting! Honestly, where did she learn such language?
Anyway, 'I hoe-ed my row', so to speak, so we will now have the prettiest garden in 'zunny Zummerzet' - you will probably be able to pick it out from one of those space-shot, spy cameras the CIA operate all over the world!
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