So, despite the current spate of April showers, I think Spring has definitely arrived.
The temperature has gone up a bit, daffodils have started poke their way out and, today, I’ve had the second lot of Jehovas knocking at the door.
Yes, Spring has definitely sprung.
Of course, this means it will soon be time for gardening.
I HATE gardening!
But here’s the rub: I do like to sit in a nice garden. So, I’ll do the absolute minimum to keep it looking reasonable. This usually means cutting the grass and trimming Mrs Masher’s bush [snigger].
We have this large bush in the garden, see, and ever since I made a mess of pruning it some years ago, Mrs M has forbidden me from touching it. SHE will take charge of it from now on. It’s her bush.
However, she tends to forget about her bush (like most married women) and so it’s often left to me to give it a quick trim when she’s not looking.
And, of course, there’s much jollity and schoolboy sniggering to be had whenever we refer to her bush… because we’ve all been touched by Benny Hill.
But not in a Jimmy Saville kind of way.
And then, yesterday, this flopped onto the doormat and I made serious sniggerage. I’m not even sure why.