the green man (3)

I've remembered where yesterday's Green Man came from.  There's an upholstery shop (don't laugh) in our town and the man who runs it is a bit of an Indiana Jones-type.  Well, more of an Archaeologist-type really. He keeps finding bits of fossilised animals and getting write-ups in the local press.  This time he's found most of a Mammoth (you like mammoth?) or, at least, bits of its teeth etc.  Anyway, that's the shop we bought it in.  God-alone knows where this one came from.

Meantime, I've been indulging in some DIFY.  As nobody in their right  mind would come round to your house and mend your garden gate for tuppence-halfpenny, then one has to, indeed, do it your . . . self. So. I've mended the gate and together Mrs D and I have laid some slabs and painted an old seat green all to make our garden look loved.  And lovely.

I like the fact that in the window of our shed you can see me taking the photo - it reminds me of those film sites where people write in to point out the gaffes (cf Hitchcock The Birds).  This isn't one.

It's just a crap photo.

Oh well - I've been messing about with my guitarlele and drinking Adnams Bitter.  What's the point of summer if you can't enjoy it?