Arthur or Martha

Arthur or Martha

I don’t know about you out there, but in our house we don’t know if we’re Arthur or Martha with the weather. For those of you who aren’t familiar with our Yorkshire sayings, it means you can’t make up your minds what ‘it’ is.

One day last week we had the central heating on because it was freezing. Then the day after the living room was very warm with the sun and we were opening doors and windows. We’re halfway through June, actually a bit further than that. The nights start drawing in in three days and I’m still waiting, sundress poised, for Summer.

Is the weather Arthur or Martha?

This time last year it was red hot, I just wish it could make its mind up! Yesterday morning it started off blowing a gale and cold, then by the afternoon it was warm and sunny again. Arthur or Martha indeed!

We’ve enjoyed the sunshine this weekend, what there was of it anyway, with a spot of much needed gardening on Saturday. Although I was the forewoman rather than the gardener that I used to be! I suppose I turn into ‘she who must be obeyed’ when I adopt that role, as I sit there telling them to move that, do this, sweep that, and so it goes on. I’m not bossy with it (I hope) but the garden keeps getting neglected, as do a lot of things, because work-wise we are very busy.

We managed a tidy up in the front garden at last, with Kevin cutting the grass, and Jane planting some plants that we bought about a month ago! Then came the big tidy up, moving dead leaves etc that had dropped off, a bit of weeding and hoeing also being needed. It was lovely out in the sunshine although hubby stayed indoors bless him. He was actually doing some painting, not the house type although it needs it, but pictures for our Seaside Emporium shop.

Derek painting
Derek painting

A spot of washing

Anyway, I put on my best coercive manner and did a bit of wheedling and eye rolling when I gingerly asked Kevin if he would jet wash the curved path in our front garden. The reason I asked was that about three or four weeks ago he’d put some lawn feed and weed killer on the lawn and, as it was windy, some of it blew onto the path. Then it started raining straight away so the said orange ‘stuff’ managed to get firmly washed into the path.

Now anyone who knows me will know that when I get a bee in my bonnet I become a bit of a nag. Just with my family, not with friends, so after keep saying it wanted jet washing, I did another bit of hinting. That was followed up with outright asking as I said ‘would he do the path, pretty please’ in desperation. What passers by thought we’d been doing with the path I don’t know as there were lovely patches of orange here and there all over the place. You could be forgiven for thinking we’d been squeezing dozens of oranges on it. To me it looked a mess.

The joys of seaside living

One of the joys of living on the sea front is that the sea, sand and whatever else, turns your paving flags into dark green, mucky messes. Again, I’m known by my lot to be incredibly fussy about things that don’t look right and they had to agree the whole of the path wanted washing, not just the orange blobs.

When Kevin finished the gardening jobs he had to do, lo and behold he came into the front garden with the jet washer. ‘Yes’ I said, while punching the air with my fist, ‘at last’ I thought, signs of action.

Off he went, making the usual noisy noise a jet washer makes. We’ve got one of those round things you can put over the head of it to spread the jet out, but he decided it wasn’t coming off properly so took the head off it. Guess what happened, the spray blew everywhere, and I mean everywhere.

Wet, wet, wet

By this time Jane was yelling her head off and told him to stop as the windows and everything was getting very wet through. Kevin came last on the list as she realised he was getting wet as well. Meanwhile I was laughing my head off at the pair of them when Derek turned up to see what the noise was. He was armed with a sweeping brush and one for Jane, which was just as well as the dark green algae and sludge like stuff was pouring down the path.

Our front garden has a bit of a slope on it down to the door so there they both were, sluicing the gunky green stuff down the drain. Kevin, who obviously had thought better of it, had by this time got his head back on the jet washer. Not his head, but the washer’s head, I thought I’d better make myself clear in case there was any doubt. So he wasn’t wetting everything through in a ten mile radius.

Meanwhile, I was busy sitting down directing operations, as somebody has to, don’t they. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it, but anyway, tea was ready so Kevin happily packed everything up having just managed to do the front path to the door. I’ve got the rest of the paths, drive and front and back paths lined up to do, or should I say he has, so I’d better be on my best behaviour for all that I think, don’t you!!

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