I’m so sorry I still haven’t finished the epilogue, my hands are a bit too battered to type away to my hearts content. I tend to rest my inner wrists on the edge of the laptop when I write…this is what they look like:
I took it unto m’self to tackle a huge project in my garden. Ivy had swallowed my house—all of it—windows included. And some of the roof. On accounts of being a dunderhead. Matters had possibly reached Maleficent proportions, so I set about beridding myself of it.
I am an itty bit clumsy, I must confess.
During the last few weeks I’ve broken a couple of ribs, dropped the shears on my foot (which broke a bit and went blue) dislocated my toe and trod on a thorn. My arms look as if they’ve been through a shredder. I’m too used to m’self to take a lot of notice, but the bee sting was insult to injury, it must be said.
By the time I stagger indoors after hacking my way through said shrubbery I’m a smidge too sore to rustle up a fitting finale for our miscreants. Nevertheless I am almost done (in) so with a bit of luck, unless I fall off the ladder—
I should stop there. Tempting fate is so not a cunning plan…
Last week, another thorn got lodged in my palm, so I yanked it out and forgot, as y’do, figuring that it would stop bleeding soon ’nuff. Then, carried on clipping until my son’s belly prompted him to pop outside and ask how I was doing.
I may have swiped my hair out of my face at some point. That seems the best explanation for the fact that he went quite white, the poor little mite. 🙈 I p’raps looked as if I’d taken a trip through a windscreen.
I am delighted to report that I’ve almost defeated the beastie hell-bent on devouring my house, so all being w—😨 Oops, time to quit, whilst (I have) ahead…
(this is the bit at the end of the news where they wheel out the 115 year old birthday girl who drinks like a sailor and smokes 40 a day…)
❤️🤍💙 Thank you, truly, Stateside folks ❤️🤍💙
I’m a smidge stunned 😳