The lady of the house is out

Next time someone comes to the door I'm going to pretend to be my cleaning lady. Well, it won't really be pretending as I am my cleaning lady, but I'll pretend not to be me as well.

It'll be simpler.

A man just offered to do some tree lopping. Now we have lots of trees that need lopping, quite serious lopping in some cases. Husband wishes he had been a lumberjack and enjoys doing it but we have more trees than he has spare time, and one particular bit, just next to where we sit, is not only overgrown and leaning towards the house, but is brown and ugly at the bottom as well. My man gave me a very good price (he assured me it was) to cut them down completely and remove the rubbish. As long as I had it done today.

I told him I'd ask Husband, and I did try but his mobile went straight to voicemail. I don't think my man believed me but I would have liked him to cut down the trees.

We had a Health & Safety training day in work on Monday. The trainer asked us what hazards we had at home; I said, 'my husband.'

Saying 'I know what I'm doing,' he props his ladder up against a thick conifer hedge, and climbs up it, 10' or more, chain saw in hand.

I would have been very pleased for someone else to risk life and limb but dare not make the decision without consulting Husband. It is 'his' garden.

And my man was Irish. So if he'd brought two mates with him, I'd have been able to tell people we'd had the tree fellers in. (The old ones are the best.)