I was in the garden yesterday - you can't call what I was doing gardening - but I leaned forward a little and my back went ping. Ever since then I've been walking with a slight tilt. It's a little disconcerting, imagining a day when I am old and haggard and bent over.
Also in garden news, we have new fish in our pond. Of the eight originals only three remain and while they've taken advantage of the space and food available to grow into baby sharks Husband had a yen to get some more so we trotted along to Pets-r-us.
You wouldn't think it would be so hard to buy goldfish. For goodness sake, you can win them at the fair. But the assistant almost refused to sell us any. I blame Husband.
He happened to mention that we'd had a heron in the garden at one stage and we suspected him of eating some of our previous fish. It was then that the cross examination began. What had we done to protect the fish? (Nothing.) Did we have a net over the pond? (No.) Did we intend to put a net over the pond? (Probably not.) Much head-shaking followed. She couldn't sell us fish unless we told her we'd put a net over them. 'Otherwise it's irresponsible of us. We'd just be selling them as food.'
Didn't like to point out the frozen mice they sell as snake food as we did really want some fish. Husband already hadn't helped by going on about the heron, and then, when he'd assured her he would provide adequate protection, he started talking about algae and silt and muddied ponds and blocked filters. I could see our dreams of a fish-filled pond flying out of the window or, more likely, going down the drain.
When we'd signed all the paperwork - yes, seriously - she let us bring home 6 little fish, and true to his word Husband has put a net over the pond. Now when she said a net I had visions of a discreet fine barely-visible affair; Husband has used - well, see for yourself:
It just won't do.