THE ageing Jaguar and I were back on the road this morning, conveying The Daughter Who Left (But Returned) to work. Radio 1 (a chart music station for non-UK followers) is playing on the radio.
“Who is this?” I ask TDWL (BR). She doesn’t know. Does that often happen when she’s listening to Radio 1 in her own car, I wonder. No, because she doesn’t do something so 20th Century as listen to the radio in her car.
“I attach my phone to the car,” she explains. I pretend I know what this means. Perhaps I should do the same, I suggest. Apparently, this is impossible because 1) I don’t have the right sort of phone and 2) I don’t have the right sort of car.
“Ah well, at least I have the satisfaction that you don’t know the people on Radio 1 any more than I do – and you’re twenty-three,” I say.
“Four,” she replies.
“Twenty-four. I knew that.”
You know the sound that children make, that conveys pity and contempt in equal measure? I do.
After breakfast, it’s off to another day on The Garden Project. This mainly consist of clearing miscellaneous rubbish from the hedges, and visiting the recycling centre with bags of non-recyclable items ranging from wormy carpets to perambulator parts (thanks dad).
The concrete blocks that I discover in one part of the hedge, I put in the skip on the pavement outside. Didn’t I mention the skip? It seems you cannot demolish a chimney without a skip for the removal of rubble.
I return from one trip to the recycling centre to discover a neighbour has put into the skip the following: Item 1 – a toilet bowl, colour: shocking pink; Items 2 to 4 – toilet cistern, toilet pedestal, hand sink, colour as above; Item 5 – a vacuum cleaner, upright model, colour: bright yellow.
I gaze upon these items in wonder. Mainly I wonder how the hell I’m going to persuade the skip hire company that they fall within the definition of rubble.
You know the best thing about all of these days of labour on The Garden Project, with this Retired Bloke transformed into a Son Of Toil and his Ton Of Soil? The tea breaks. And the biscuits that The Current Mrs Feeney supplies with such generosity.
Today I had a Penguin and a Blue Riband. I cannot remember the last time I ate either of these. I’d forgotten how delicious they were. It got me thinking about Biscuits Of My Past. Particularly, the favourites of my childhood (Tiffin – more of a chocolate bar really) and my teenage years (Bandit).
Thinking back, sweets and biscuits seemed to figure pretty big in the life of the youthful Retired Bloke: “myself, / Who had the world as my confectionary” as Shakespeare put it. Clever Bloke.
Anyway, day of toil complete, it’s home for a quick shower before collecting TDWL (BR). I made her listen to Radio 2 (old chart music station) all the way home.
By the way, I’ve added a Post Script to The Wine List #7 (see below). And, as ever: Keep Drinking and Remain Cheerful at All Times.