Pink, Blue and Purple

Our neighbours used to have pink and blue jobs, depending on whether it was domestic or DIY. Since he passed away two years ago, she says all jobs are purple, and she’s doing her best. We bought her a small tool kit for every day use that first Christmas, and she has been glad of it, proud as punch for changing a clock battery to a bulb in her cooker hood.

Hubby and I have had a good day. We don’t have his and hers jobs, never have really as he’s content to cook, wash or clean, and I don’t mind having a go with a paint brush or hammering in a nail or two, though it is rare they go in straight.
Today we cleaned the windows together, inside and out, having found a technique using a spray bottle and a scraper rather than the hose, bucket, and a wash cloth. It actually saves us money on our water bill as we are only using water we need, not splashing it everywhere, including over ourselves. We add a drop of washing up liquid and some vinegar to the bottle, and things come up a treat.

Some time ago, Hubby attacked the front lawn with a weedkiller that actually encouraged the damn things to grow, but to such an extent, that they ‘burnt themselves out’ and died.
The thing was, having thrown away the packaging, he couldn’t remember what he was to do afterwards, so this afternoon has seen him methodically digging out the dead stuff with a small two pronged fork from a sitting position wearing his yellow waterproofs to keep himself dry. He has enjoyed some bantering with the neighbours and passersby, and removed six full buckets of weeds and roots from our small frontage.
I then got the mower out and cut the grass (yes I was telling the truth on my Fibbing Friday post), which took me about ten minutes.
We now need to get some more grass seed to fill in the holes vacated by the ‘deceased greenery’, and although our grass will never be pristine or perfectly manicured,  it looks a darn sight better than it did.
Our home when purchased in 2017

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