As I write to you this morning from the kitchen table of Pattisson Towers four things appear to be occupying my as ever over full and inadequate brain. The first of these, and probably the only one of any real importance, is that believe it or not two weeks today is Easter Sunday and from a mail order smoked food perspective this means that in reality you only have one week left to order what you need. The second is that being an arachnophobe is a genuine nightmare when your halfwit of a boss asks you to de-cobweb an entire building. The third is the fun I get watching folk don the scarlet rugby jersey of Wales and pop a leek in the lapel when their only apparent connection with the country is that their maternal Grandfather once spent a week camping there in the 1970’s! The final one is how one should react when ones wife presents you with a gift of three luminous head bands with the words “these might help a bit”. The unmentionable virus has it would seem destroyed romance as well as a good many other things!
As a chap who is pretty much scared of most things it was rather a surprise when I suggested to Seb (18 years old 6ft 3in) on Friday afternoon that he and I would spend it attacking the cobwebs that had become more than a tad embarrassing in number through the old restaurant and shop. He went a bit pink and ever so gently suggested he wasn’t great with spiders to which I yielded and said I’d go up the ladder and he could hold the hoover and the ladder. We were progressing well until I, at my highest point from the ground, thought it would be amusing to drop my large cobweb gatherer (we had given up with the hoover) somewhere in Sebs direction and mention something along the lines of “look at the size of that one!” The ladder shot sideways and a scream of significant volume shattered the silence and by the time I had managed to reintroduce myself to the ladder that was preventing me from a 10 ft drop Seb was nowhere to be seen. Within five minutes he was back but accompanied by Steph, Andrea and Tyna who old made it perfectly clear that I always went just a bit too far! It’s funny how the same sentences one can recall from the age of five through an entire school career to student days, married life and to my shame even now appear to be on constant repeat! I apologized profusely and was put further in the dog house when I returned home and told my sorry tale to which my trio of girls said it would serve me right if I was convicted of work place bullying! So there we have it – basically a week of shame for me made even worse by the fact that my lockdown locks are now so long that as previously mentioned Mrs P has taken significant action and given me luminous head bands to keep them out of my eyes!
I wish you a restful rest of day and remember some folk who suggest “they are not too good with spiders” actually mean they are terrified and risking their boss breaking both legs falling from a ladder is one they may have to take.