Sunday, April 25, 2010

Hedge 1 - Oub 0

I fell with great force into a hedge yesterday.

Think the bastard child of 'You've Been Framed' and 'Jackass'. I missed my footing, tumbled in mortifying slow motion, life flashing before my eyes, into the aforementioned hedge. This hedge surrounds the entrance to an expensive and lifestylee Garden Centre, so loads of beautifully turned out ladies-who-lunch looked on in horror as I cannonballed into the shrubbery.



You'd be surprised at the amount of damage you can do, landing in a hedge. I am black and blue, head to foot. And that's just my dignity. Morto. And I can tell you, it's bloody difficult to carry off a 'I, like, so meant to do that' walk of shame when your foot is throbbing and your shoulder is aching. And you find out later that you have half the foliage in your hair. (Kind husband picked it out.)

Though, all things considered, as the eldest Oubliette child said, 'At least the hedge was there...'


So, what do you do the day after you've suffered such a devastating injury? Yes, go up to your allotment and do four continuous hours hard labour. I am a stranger to good sense. But you see, we are taking a little trip abroad very soon, a bit of sun and rest, volcanic ash permitting, and I must leave my beloved plot in good condition.

The sun shone! Hurray!



Then it rained. Boo!



Then there was thunder. (I decided that holding a hoe at this point might be a bad idea.)

An actual steam train went by. That was very cool.


Then I had a cup of tea.


Flask-tastic


Yes, I did get a little snap happy with my camera phone as I waited for a particularly heavy down pour to ease. I wonder what the bloke in the next plot thought I was doing in my shed as my phone made very loud camera shutter noises...

But there has been some good news this weekend - The potatoes are growing!! Oh, I could faint from excitement...


So, now I sit here on the sofa, Mr Oub is running around putting the children to bed and cooking the dinner. It hurts a bit to type, but I carry on as I know my public is always desperate to hear my news. I only hope now that I won't be too sore to hail and hop on the Poetry Bus tomorrow...

11 comments:

Karen said...

Lost in a hedge...lost your dignity...didn't lose your camera phone! Everything's fodder for the Poetry Bus. Sit on a pillow and type away!

Titus said...

Fabulous-o. Not the fall in the hedge, obviously.

And good gracious, look at those potatoes. You'll be dining well this summer (is that when you pick them?).

I am also doubting whether you do any of the work on the allotment, if that is your thumbnail shown in the cup of tea photograph. Suspiciously clean and long.

Eryl, at The Kitchen Bitch ponders, wrote a poem which so captures that moment of disaster whilst being observed, here:
http://thekitchenbitchponders.blogspot.com/2010/04/national-poetry-writing-month-day_19.html
It will make you squirm though.

Niamh B said...

well spotted titus!

Yes though Oub, you are so very brave, typing away there, twould almost make me weep...

Domestic Oub said...

Karen - my phone nearly did come a cropper, it has a few new scratches as proof!

Titus - I have dead cells as tough as diamonds, just ask Niamh B, she'll testify to the epic barnet on me, ditto for the nails, they grow long and strong, muck cannot defeat them... and, my dear Watson, if you peer behind the flask in the next pick you will just see the pretty pink gardening glove that I wear to keep my delicate digits pristine... The case for the defense rests...

Niamh B - thank you for your kind words. Some wine, fake Aldi Malibu and generic ibuprofen have helped ease the immense pain...

Titus said...

The gloves don't look dirty either.

Domestic Oub said...

Feck it. I am no match for you Titus... you have found me out. I pay an army of muscle bound young men to work my land. I just sit and watch. Never lifting a finger. Well, I sometime need to lift my finger to my lips to utter 'hush' when they try to talk as they work.

Titus said...

I admire you the more for it.

Anonymous said...

The soil of your garden looks awfully dry. For Ireland.

Domestic Oub said...

It hasn't been raining much. Which isn't typical at all for here!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Killer hedges are a menace to society.Go back at midnight with a chainsaw and have the last laugh.

Domestic Oub said...

Good idea TFE - that said, considering the dent I left in the yoke after my fall, I suspect it may have a fight on its hands to survive..