Escape to the jungle

Just back from a trip down to the end of the garden. In theory I was gathering up garden rubbish to put in one of our many wheelie-bins, although since they don’t seem to be being emptied any more that is rather a pointless exercise. See my ‘Sheila Perry predicts…’ blog for more bin collection rants.
While I was there I checked out the area around the new Scottish Power fence which for a while was looking as if it might subside, but now seems to have stabilised, though I may revise that opinion if one of the cats disappears into a hole; I began to prune back a rampant buddleia then had to stop when I noticed it was still in flower and looked nicer rampant than it did cut back; I observed that this hasn’t been a good apple year except, weirdly, for my Cox’s Orange Pippins, which my late brother claimed would never fruit so far north; I put some sticks in a basket in a leisurely manner.
So much for my attempts at gardening.
Naturally I had an ulterior motive for venturing out there in the first place and, as so often happens, it was a form of procrastination. Not only do I now have 31 messages waiting on my answering machine, which I think is a house record, but I am in the middle of what I hope will be the final edit of my latest mystery novel, and there is such a backlog of housework that the mess has become obvious even to people glancing in the front window from outside, and we keep getting cards through the door from cleaning companies.
As far as the phone messages are concerned, I have stopped answering my telephone as I so rarely receive ‘real’ phone calls, and one of my least favourite activities is running to answer the phone, scattering and in some cases tripping over cats on the way, and then picking up the receiver only to hear the long silence that announces the presence of a cold caller somewhere in a call centre in India. I can almost guarantee that 27 out of the 31 ‘messages’ will be blank ones. In the case of the other 4, well there are plenty of other ways for real people to get in touch with me. One day I may find life isn’t too short to answer the phone, but that day hasn’t arrived yet!
Although I sound super-grumpy in this blog post, I am actually quite cheerful today as I’m nearing the end of my ‘Frozen in Crime’ edits and have also completed the first part of my research for the novel set in the 1950s that I will attempt to write in November.
I’m also looking forward to a fight with the City of Edinburgh Council over the wheelie-bin collections but that’s another story.

at the end of the garden

At the end of the garden


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