The accidental finding

By woodpeckers

Coffee, cosmos and shabby shelves

Time for a break after a century of wielding the power sander, and stopping to change the papers every few minutes, or so it seemed. I have a ridiculous fear of machines, caused by a sewing teacher's cruel remark in the 1970s, a scald from a kettle, and the fact that I am not licensed to drive a car on my own. I actually had to be shown how to use a hot melt glue gun at a workshop once! They didn't exist when I was at school.

Never mind all of that, I was determined to improve a set of shelves, though the further I got the more I thought, "this ain't shabby chic, it's shabby sh*t!" They have now been sanded, hoovered, and primed (first coat). Can't say they look any better, but as usual, I did not take a "before" picture. When will I learn?

As always happens when I am doing some physical work, the sun popped out and shone hotly. I took this shot of the top of the shelves and the mug (sadly, not a good mug shot at all!) and the cosmos, reflected in the cabin window. If you look carefully, you can see both inside the cabin and the garden behind me.

Later, I took the country bus route to Nailsworth where I overheard an extraordinary conversation about free eye treatment. "Glaucoma is hereditary. My father was Ukrainian, so he was in all the camps after the war, and he got cataracts, it was all the shrapnel, must have been the British; then he got glaucoma, so I get my eye tests free, no they're not getting a penny..."

There was a donkey grazing by the war memorial at Amberley, but the bus moved on before I could whip out my Olympus. So I only took 3 shots today in all.

The evening had turned fine by the time I got back from Nailsworth and my client, but I was minded to sit in a garden chair and look at recipes that involve 100 squashes and 47 courgettes! We may yet join the Food Hub, a scheme for buying and selling local produce grown by individuals rather than businesses. I am sorry to report that all our raspberries withered and died in our absence, but at least this is real produce, not the crops I used to cultivate on Farmville...

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