Post 366: Nasty pyracantha stings and the motorbike’s dead.
Have I actually got stage 4 Prostate cancer with a PSA of 738?
It makes me so pleased that I can have days like this. Another busy day spring-cleaning the garden out the back and bringing the food home for the family (ha ha, it’s only me that’ll eat rhubarb, but it’s free!).
I sat down, after an hour of weeding, and started the day slowly, feeling tired. I didn’t know if I’d last the day, but that was not the intention.
So I had an early tea break, and the banana was sweet and soft, just the way I like it. Still yellow, but on its way to turning spotty black.
That done, I thought I’d sit down at the tv’s side and watch a bit of K-drama—a new one I just started. I’ve finished off three series lately, which is because I’d been in bed and doing bugger all for those six days, which I’d rather forget about to be honest. So I watched the rest of the first part and relaxed..
After that I was recharged and got on with a bit of garden clearance.
There’s a corner of the garden that’s overgrown, not far from the rhubarb actually, but it’s a mess where two bushes compete for space and, at the back of both—and sometimes intertwined—is pyra-bloody-cantha. Ouch, ouch! Ouch!!!
I think you can guess the story.
Bloke goes trimming a bush, bloke finds thorns, bush gets trimmed, and bloke will need hospital attention for his injuries to his hands and fingers.
Damn pyracantha!
But I have to say that messy corner is now no longer choking with competing flora and will probably thrive—if I haven’t killed it.
So I pulled the spikes out of my gloves that I could see and went in for lunch.
It’s really hard work, this gardening…
I was finished with the satsuma and yoghurt when the phone rang.
“I know who that is,” I thought to myself… and sure enough, it was my little Bruv.
It’s my niece’s rugby training/playing day (Sunday), so he has a bit of time to speak to me, so he normally does.
“I’m grand, really grand, Bro,” I replied to his initial and normal inquiry.
I went on to tell him about yesterday’s strength, right out of nowhere.
He was audibly chuffed.
I could hear his voice raise and smile.
We chatted for a bit and then the conversation changed to his need for a motorcycle licence so he can ride an old BSA he’d been left by Dad. He’s had it nearly twenty years and now his kids are grown, it’s time to muck about on two wheels.
His pa-in-law is rebuilding and refurbishing the bike, and the particular way he’ll go about the rebuild will have that bike looking fabulous.
So, Bro was saying, “I need boots and then I’ll be ok for the day’s training (more like an hour’s training) in a couple of weeks’ time”, but he was worried about clutch control.
“Well,” I says to Bruv, “I can help you there if I get my bike going, can’t I?”
If there’s one thing I need sometimes, it’s a kick up the jacks. So with the end of the call dealt with, I got up and went out to the bike shed. Immediately there was a familiar call…
“We have a problem, Houston!”
What I thought would be an easy dust-off and crank-over was simply astoundingly bad.
The petrol was dripping out the bottom of the carburettors and the battery was dead flat.
In the time I had left till my Darling comes back home, I got at one problem and left the other for another day. The petrol tank was off, so too the seat, side panels, the battery and battery box, etc., which left me looking a little clearer at the top of the carbs.
I was tired, but that didn’t stop me ordering a new battery for the old gal there and then. That should be delivered here in a few days.
Which should give me time to get a look at the twin carbs and the reason for the sticky float. But that can wait, as I already said.
So I tidied up the shed, now littered with motorcycle paraphernalia, and did a little more weeding, but I was knackered. So I went inside and turned the TV on. Again.
No sooner had the TV come to life than my Darling came in the door with a tired look and two shopping bags. She tidied away the shopping, sat close to me, and rested a moment.
I could see that “bed” was written in her eyes, which I told her, and with that she upped and left for the bedroom and… some well-deserved sleep. (Ahhhh!).
So another great day outside in the sunshine.
I’ll see if I’m so enthusiastic about the bike and weeds tomorrow. It’s mattress exchange day and I can’t wait to see and feel what it’s like. I do so hope it’s just what I need, but with the extra fluff under the current mattress and my mighty sleeps of late, I’m not sure I’ll notice.
Ah, but I will. I’ll have the support under my back I sorely need.
Roll on the delivery.
Now for the rhubarb..
It’s too late to say good night, so…
Good morning, have a very enjoyable day.
