Oh, God

I just finished working outside. I’m getting too old. Muttering to myself. My neighbour across the road is a landscaping contractor. He is corpulent, with a shock of gypsy-white hair and has yet to return the de-riguer land-owner hail-wave, let alone offer either his advice or his services.

Maybe he thinks it would be rude to sell a neighbor. But the nice lady next door, who I think of as an “old lady” in the parlance of my time but in fact is probably only ten or thirteen years older than me. In other words, she could have been that lusty babysitter i had when i was a wee lad, is a customer. Maybe he doesn’t like the cut of my jib. Maybe my hedges disgust him.

I am worried.

Well, now i shall enjoy a shower and then solidify. Ow. Ouch.