Monday was Lammas. A good Lammas to those Christians who celebrate it.
Yesterday was Lughnasadh (at least it was here in the northern hemisphere which presumably means it was Imbolc in the southern). Good Festival to our pagan and wiccan readers.
Also on Monday, Ramadan began. A blessed Ramadan to our Muslim readers.
In case I've never mentioned it before - I really, really, really hate nettles. Especially the sort that have been growing wild for generations and so have reached maximum viciousness.
And which are cunning enough to find the half-millimetre of unprotected arm that's exposed between glove and sleeve as you attempt to hack them down.
I'm not that keen on brambles with thorns big enough to pierce your skin through your work jeans and find an artery, either. Well, maybe not an
artery but certainly a blood-vessel large enough to bleed profusely all over my jeans. I look like I've been working in a slaughter-house rather than a big, open, field-about-to-be-a-building-site.
Damn' things ripped out the knee of my jeans, too. A huge tear, too big to patch. I'm going to have to do the nearly-scruffy hanging-about-the-house pair becomes work pair, semi-respectable going shopping etc pair becomes nearly-scruffy, decent becomes semi-respectable, and need-to-go-shopping-for-a new-best-pair, thing again, aren't I??
I can't go to Jean Jeanie this time, though. They've closed down and the premises are yet another branch of a fashionable chain of fancy coffee houses. I swear it wasn't my fault. Their closing had absolutely nothing to do with the chaos surrounding my last jeans-buying foray. It was purely a result of the recession, they folded because of cash-flow like so many good shops have.
I hate clothes shopping. Now I'm going to have to spend Saturday in the town centre, in the school holidays. Damn.
I think I'm going to have a cup of coffee and a sulk.
See you next week, goodnight and may your God/s go with you.
Ze
