I am feeling a little overwhelmed and am trying to write it out. I am currently sitting at the outer edges of a jungle which is in turn, on the outer edges of Rutland.  fierce down by 'ere and
  I am scared to enter this jungle because of what I might find in it. ...namely the lawnmower.
I have already located and isolated a trowel, but this was relatively easy due to its proximity to the house. It had been camouflaged by  a particularly nasty patch of .......I can't remember the name. I knew it last year and every previous year but then again I have spent 2 days...in this my 50th year...thinking of the name for that dark brown stuff you put on lettuce..it's on my shopping list as 'salad vinegar' which I find somewhat distressing. Anyway, I hate these plants but they cover up my drain rather nicely which is why the trowel is there - duh! The prongs of the trowel are great for removing the grate bit of the drain in order to unblock it when all the bits of ......green stuff... have clogged it up, allowing soapy water to flow out and under the rotting doors of the garage. This happens because we need have need of a, but have no, drainage trench at the bottom of the sloping drive. The garage becomes the trench and everything in it becomes damp and rusty then perishes. However, this is definitely not the car, because someone put an ill advised vestibule on the side of the house and now the drive narrows just at the entrance to the garage rendering it superfluous to requirements unless you are parking
a) a sled
b) a bike
c)a scooter
d)a mobility scooter
e) a lawnmower (usually)
There are in fact several bikes and a scooter in there, all rusty, but we can't make use of them because the last time we went in mice (we hope) had eaten the handlebars of the scooter and no one is brave enough to go back in. We'll have to rig up some sort of a gazebo to protect the lawnmower now, if I ever get the grass cut. It's a chicken/egg situation. It's up to my knees now, the grass. Maybe Aidan Turner can come and scythe it for me.
I absolutely cannot face the strimmer. It is soul destroying switching the power off every two minutes to readjust orange wire that snaps or breaks free every 30 seconds, slices through your leg hair and slippers but cannot cope with the jungle. I really need a petrol blade but I can't afford it.

I AM HAPPY TO BE BRIBED WITH PRODUCT PLACEMENT! I WILL EVEN TAKE PHOTOS.
In fact, I have an idea....

I have ventured down the garden and given myself a right fright. I have taken pics of everything...and cried a bit! I intend to try and blog you the resulting improvements.

Best make a start...

Seed catalogue and power tool distributors or Aidan Turner, can contact me by leaving a comment below.

'Be Reclusive Not Rejected' ....Discuss

Weird dreams I have been having of late ---weird! Are they telling me something?
Followers of psychotherapy believe that everything within a dream represents an aspect of the sleeper and my dreams have been about coupling.
The world of love a bit of a mystery to me. I crave it yet I run from it. Mine is a world of goodbyes. I feel like an actor who says that despite his success, he is waiting to be discovered a fraud. I simply cut out the success bit and assume the fraudulent position straight off the bat.

I do this in a number of ways. The first is by focussing (a la Jerry Seinfeld) on a trivial thing that becomes insurmountable in my mind; an over long eyebrow; laces that do not match the shoe; a curl that curls the wrong way or an overloud gulp. I make it very known that it's very irritating.The second wave - if those defences fail - is to take any attempt to give me a compliment as a sign that my date is desperate or deranged.
If I still can't shake them off, then in order to bring the situation to a swift resolution, I indulge in poor behaviour brought on by confusion and self doubt. This, I am ashamed to say, often involves flirting wildly with others or blowing hot then cold then desperate, which is not unlike being in Newcastle on a bank holiday.

I have avoided this behaviour successfully for years by making no attempt to find a partner. There was one marvellous week in Brighton a while ago where I had my cogs oiled by a young buckaroo but really, that was very much the exception rather than the rule. It precipitated a period of sexting which we entered into with gusto for a while, but which ultimately left us dead inside. He mentioned it first and I was grateful to him: the young are so much better with their emotions. So we apologised to each other in a very British way and thankfully we have never waivered simultaneously. We may have started unconventionally, but we provide solid, good old-fashioned and polite penpal services now...you'd never have known...unless one of us is drunk on Sauvignon Blanc or stoned on something smokeable.
 So these dreams: As ever my weight was bothering me and so in the first,  I seemed to be represented by a chubby friend of mine who is in a long-term relationship. Whilst I slept, she was out and about chatting up all sorts and making overnight dates. When I took her to task, she said that she would never tell her partner because she loved him and would never leave him. But, she said, she needed more than he could give her.
Is that me; wanting to stay true to myself but needing more?  Her approach would  certainly be a change from my current mantra -' Be Reclusive not Rejected'  Yes...If I spread the net wide...a few fish might swim in by mistake.
 The second was about an old beau who had turned out to be a charlatan.  In the dream, he had left me a note which I was rereading for the first time in years.  It contained a flight number and a note  encouraging me not to lose faith in him, he just couldn't stay whilst he felt like a fraud.  Hmm...this psychotherapy shit might have something.