There’s a vicious scrape on the back of my right hand. We bought a new aluminium growhouse for seeds and seedlings, which arrived last week. It’s very smart but of course, I have to put it together. Big boy Meccano. Fiddly but fun. Less so when you run the sharp edge of one of the struts across your paw while getting it out of its box. Not the best of starts.
Still, the gouge is healing nicely—recovery would be quicker if it wasn’t in a place where I can’t help but fiddle with it. And the growhouse is only half built. It’ll be worth it in the end. The best projects need a small injection of work, swearing and a smear of blood-sacrifice to the gods of construction.
Also, I look double-hard now.
In this chapter—ruminations on snacks and leftovers and more than the usual amount of whinging about getting old.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Continue reading The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 10
