humor – Widow plus woofs

I have a pain in the neck. Mon cou to be exact and it’s flippin’ annoying. Not only does it support what little brain I have, I can’t move my head without wincing so I’m doing a favourable impression of a debutante in training at the moment. And I can’t even blame on a wild night out dancing, nope it’s down to cleaning cobwebs and dust off walls and swabbing the pool deck. Denis keeps insisting I enlist the help of anti-inflammatories but I hate taking pills of any kind – I might have a reaction and be left powerless. The witch in me one supposes. Still, better to be ailing over the weekend especially as the weather is still deciding whether or not to bring the hailstones that are apparently arriving from Spain – Denis watches too much TV.

It’s not that I mind housework, in fact I count myself as one of the weirdos that actually likes dusting but not several metre high walls. Up until recently, the main house had Natalie, our femme de ménage but with no-one in residence at present, she’s on hiatus. That being said, the family home still needs the occasional pass with the vacuum cleaner – a job that falls on me. Now, Natalie is of the diminutive size so I can’t really blame her for not looking up and noticing that the impressive stairway and its surroundings were covered in several centimetres of poussière which had been deposited by my son and nephews at least two months ago after a robust sanding of the railing base. I only noticed the oddly coloured paintwork during a spider web elimination task – I have one of those super long poles with a brush on the end for such, as I swished back and forth, fine brown powder descended. Everywhere. If that wasn’t bad enough, I had to clean down the wood on the pool deck and then paint on two coats of sealant (has to be done every couple of years and somehow is always me what does). This I though would be best achieved on a fine but windy day; the product would dry quicker was my thought only the pesky gusts kept dropping leaves and bits of twig to my perfectly pristine planks so the whole job took twice as long as I’d planned. So that’s why I have a crooked cou.

As mentioned, I’m still here in this big ol’ place on my ownsome. Except for the woofers of course and one particular member of the Dog Hollow pack turned 8 the other day. Yes, our Alice had a birthday. Celebrations aside; I had a few friends over for dinner and she partook in the normally never allowed munching of crisp hand-downs, it was also a day tinged with a little mellow. Not only because she had been my 25th wedding anniversary gift to Tony, there is also the reminder that he passed away a year later. Then there’s Yogi Bear who should have also had a birthday but he’s sleeping peacefully by the potager. But we have our little lioness; one who never fails to make your heart thump and not always in the positive sense – let’s not forget that time she took on a 90 kilo mastiff when he attacked Arry. She’s a game girl is our Alice.

At least, I’ve got everything ship-shape as far as the family homestead is concerned as I have a guest coming next week and then a wee party for Denis, a bit delayed but then we haven’t exactly had outdoor barbecue weather of late. As I write, there is the grumbling sounds of thunder in the distance and I’ve had to shoot downstairs into the courtyard to grab the washing off line. But my man Monsieur le météo decrees that next week should be full of sunshine and no hailstones in the forecast. I really hope so as I can’t look up at the skies without wanting to release a few expletives and a little bit of balmy will do wonders for my bothered brainstem…

“Housework can’t kill you but why take a chance?” (Phyllis Diller)

According to Denis, I had a narrow escape the other day. I’d left him up on the terrace re-potting my ancient Peace Lily and tidying up the outdoor space whilst I popped next door to strip out Slim’s (Alice’s other son) coat when, upon my return, he announced that I’d had some visitors. “I found two black widow spiders under those rocks over there” he delightedly informed me, “like the one that bit you”. Well, for one thing the savage beast that munched my hand was a recluse spider and two, I’m not convinced such deadly creatures are residing under Arry’s cailloux collection. False widows perhaps but not the real ones. But Denis was insistent so I let him be the hero for a few minutes. I almost called him this morning when I opened the downstairs door and found another arachnid wiggling its legs at me on the jamb but I let it be. It was brown. Yup, the clocks have gone forward and Spring is nigh.

Frankly, I’m surprised the spiders managed to stay in one place considering the atrocious weather the last week of March brought us – wet and windy. Very. Mind you, the sun has finally come out today even if it is still gusty and the météo is forecasting a brighter week ahead. Let’s hope so because Denis is picking up the pool liner tomorrow but the poseur can’t fit it until the thermometer hits 20 degrees. With all the rain of late, the bloody thing has started to refill itself with the wrong sort of water. Still, having had a decent soaking with the right sort, the garden is looking very Spring-like and the birds are tweeting away merrily from their various nesting points. Bert and Skirt, the resident magpies have once again built their abode in the huge cedar tree adjacent to the terrace which is a little worrying as the one they added up there last year got blown down and they lost their brood.

Speaking of building things, I’ve finally taken the leap and made Witch Wackle public. That is to say, my new ‘micro enterprise’ now has a name and a couple of social media accounts. It took me a while to think of a name; anything with Sophi had already been taken – obviously a popular name amongst furniture restorers, so I decided to use my childhood nickname as a tribute to Mumo. Callum approves. To be honest, I’m not well-versed in the art of content or video editing which I’m told should be uploaded daily – who has that kind of time to fiddle about? I spent half of this morning trying to ‘dress’ a rather gorgeous Victorian style plant stand I’d bought back to life; she looked great in the sunshine but the only flowers in pots I could find were orchids which didn’t really suit the frame. Still, the work itself is educational and addictive even if I no longer have fingernails or a pair of unstained jeans or the vaguest understanding of Facebook posting. Considering the number of careers I have had; restaurant manager, model, receptionist, fitness guru, dog trainer, groomer and behaviour consultant, for the first time in my life I’m enjoying the freedom of working alone and no longer having to look at the clock. Unless there’s a spider waving back…

““A mind that is stretched by new experiences can never go back to its old dimensions.” (Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr)