Weekender

Reading time: 2 mins

A good meal on Friday night at The Cruin was spoiled by the waiting staff. Generally I’m pretty tolerable of below par service (unless it’s downright unprofessional) as everyone makes mistakes, an apology usually suffices and I tend to take things on balance. If the food is good, the atmosphere welcoming, table positions are favourable etc etc.. then I’m not going to complain. However, unlike Arseney Wobble Twatson, I don’t think scrapping the minimum wage would help improve restaurant service.

Arriving back home we heard the most awful, anguished, noise coming from the back garden of our neighbours house. It was obviously an animal in some distress but didn’t sound like a cat or dog… we both guessed at a fox (we have a couple that we see regularly). I took a torch from the car and wandered up to the gate, peered over into the darkness but couldn’t see a thing. By this time the noise had stopped. I cast the feeble beam around but it made little impression so I headed back to the house.

And the noise started again. It was an awful sound, so I decided to get my big torch, the one that’ll light up a house half a mile away, and see if that would help.

Back to the neighbours gate, a flick of a switch and their entire back garden explodes into light. Two foxes are staring at me. Oops. The male dismounts and skulks off before the female follows, she pauses at the corner of the building and throws me a look that says “thank you, he was awful!”.

Saturday morning and we are both in a “get things done” mood. The sun is flitting between clouds so out into the garden we head. Digging, cutting, weeding commences. At 3pm I fall onto the sofa and spend the next couple of hours flicking between channels, trying to watch both Cup Finals at the same time.

Louise comes in, watches for a bit then decides to clean the bathroom. About ten minutes later a little scream emanates from the smallest room in the house, it’s a well known scream and usually accompanies a small eight-legged insect. I stick my head out of the living room door:

“You OK?”
“Yes… yes I’m fine… ” she says, stifling a giggle.
“What you up to?” I say, somewhat suspiciously.
“Nothing.. no no, nothing… *giggle*

I head upstairs to investigate.

I get there and Louise looks at me sheepishly. Apparently something had scurried out from under the bathroom unit as she was cleaning the floor, it kind of “rolled” at her, she said.

Startled, she screamed whilst trying to avoid this odd little insect as it rolled “right at me”.

So, if you are like Louise and not fond of little scurrying insects may I make a small suggestion. Don’t leave little rubber bands lying around, as when you try and sweep them up they sometimes “ping” and “roll” at you.

Which can be very scary. Apparently.