Saturday, 22 September 2007

Wedding bells and birthday candles

Digg this

I am in some measure of strife from Jim, for failing to get out of bed early enough for her liking. I refuse to dwell upon the likely result of making similar reciprocal complaints and, almost certainly, being overbearing and denying her of utterly unrequited beauty sleep.

That was a compliment, you see. She'll almost certainly read this and I'll be in trouble again.

I Love you, Jim!

There are a great many jobs which need doing in the Team Manley clubhouse at the moment, from laying the floor and plastering the walls, to pointing, building the bedroom wall and tiling the bathroom.

The way I attack this is, rather than set any levels of priority to this work, I simply do whatever I feel like doing next. There is a deep nagging area of my brain which reminds me that I will end up with just the bad jobs to do and that the bathroom is unlikely to ever get tiled at this rate, but I satisfy myself with the knowledge that it cannot be as nagging as my darling wife, and there's always the chance that I might die before I have to get round to the grouting.

Today I creosote the back gate.

Since 30 June 2003, creosote has been withdrawn from sale to householders. Stored creosote must not be used by householders and should have been disposed of safely and responsibly by 31 June 2004. Thus I actually used Cuprinol rollable shed and fence treatment. It's important to be accurate, I feel.

Most of the work here involves fighting off small children who seem to be attracted to wet paint and stain like moths to a candle. Certainly it was with no small feeling of relief that I head for church for a wedding.

I like ringing for weddings. I remember my own and the feeling, as I left the church to the sound of the eager St Bartholomew's Corsham ringers, that it was done and dusted. As an added bonus, at ST Thomas the bride and groom, when they turn to leave the church, can see us about to pull off [NOTE: Accidental innuendo retained for SSG's amusement] and always* look so happy with the prospect of our impending efforts.

We arrived to the sound of small shouting children in the nave, which is greeted with a friendly 'Little bastards', in the happy, accepting manner which only a broad Devon accent can convey. Amusingly, two of the children turn out to belong to the happy couple, so not only was this appropriate, but factually correct.

A good ring later and I think that it might just be time for poo. I weigh 193.1lbs.

I am having a poo

190.4lbs of pure Manley drags himself off to another children's birthday party.

Statistically, ignoring the trends amongst humans to breed more often at certain times of the year, with 3 children across three school years and around 30 children per year, I can see that every single weekend of the next 16 years could easily be taken up in this manner.

Children's parties are abhorrent to me. I love children [NOTE: This is not for SSG's benefit], but they are not a good tribe animal. One or two can be a delight. More than 3 and you may as well hang one right off the mark.

This party does, however, feature cream cheese and grape sandwiches and a simply enormous bouncy castle. Joy is me!

Back home and we watch the ever dire High School Musical before bed, but I can't get to sleep before being reminded that I am still in trouble for getting up late this morning.

It's a hard life.

Here's A picture by the ever lovely Verity:

*Almost always.

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