Je range mon squat

Yes, it’s her indoors today. The forecast was for rain, so I planned to make a massive attack on the potting shed.   As it happened, it didn’t rain until dark (530pm). But it was stormy and overcast and very threatening all day.

So after a leisurely and rather late breakfast, I ambled up to the potting shed – which didn’t know what was going to hit it.

Artur was close on my heels and yowled and complained as I set about undoing all his toys. I wanted to pull out everything I have stored under the benches for the past two years.   Sweep all the accumulated dirt and sort everything properly.

I put up with Artur circling and complaining for about fifteen minutes until I hit upon a solution.   And sadly it was as simple as giving a whingeing toddler a dummy and a blanket.   I grabbed a wooden wine box from the messy pile, folded in some soft fleece and put it in a far corner of the bench.   In seconds he was up, settled in and fast asleep. Happy in the knowledge that I was close by and in his orbit.   But not pestering.

This is my trick. If I ever sit down he wants to climb on my lap. So no lap, no whining. Simple.

Actually I had piled so many boxes of Things To Be Sorted on the only seat in the shed that he wouldn’t have had a chance at any lap sitting anyway.

And hours later I’m almost done. Almost. But you have to wait until tomorrow for the after shot. I want to clean the windows and sort all the plants first.

I didn’t find too many surprises under the staging: some suspicious looking pine marten poo, feathers from a deceased bird, lots of soil and plastic pots. But no real treasures.   The best bit is the fact I have a car load of rubbish to take to the tip.