Happiness is a nail gun with a full magazine

Somebody, who shall remain nameless (he knows who he is!), has had the temerity to suggest that I don’t do any real work around here! I’m mortally wounded; cut to the quick! Ahhh, the plight of women the world over; who perform their day-to-day tasks with such quiet efficiency that the male of the species is blissfully unaware of how molly-coddled an existence he leads. Some even still believe it’s the pants fairy who does the washing!

Today was a different sort of day, though; with Kieran back in England, Nick needed some help to replace the cabanon roof. Having spent the morning finishing the task of moving the firewood from the terrace to the woodpile (by barrow or by hand since the trailer no longer fits through the gap since Nick filled it with roof tiles), I then became roofer’s labourer for the afternoon, helping lift beams and lats, position the tarpaulin and nail them in place.

That done, Nick sat down to a three course dinner which included home made bread, home made patΓ©, a choice of quiche, made with home grown eggs and walnuts, salad with home grown lettuce, rocket and radish, all rounded off by a choice of crumble or lemon cake.

Not much time for painting my toenails today then ! πŸ˜‰

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