Now we no longer send our children up chimneys, down the pit, into service and up yonder t’mill, they are a permanent fixture in the front room, hogging the telly and polluting the atmosphere with 21st Century noise.
I am sure we would be delighted to spend the day together under the former circumstance, especially if the children had walked miles clutching a posy of spring flowers; amongst the current din and general lack of consideration for others I would rather take myself off to the allotment with a bottle of booze.
Speaking of which, yesterday was a great day in the garden. I called it Lets see whats survived a harsh winter and six months of neglect? What came out of the regime best was the compost bin. Joy of joys, and totally unbelievably, I found I had converted all manner of doings into beautiful, sweet-smelling, light and fluffy rich compost. Well of course it was not I, it was the Universal Law of Energy: matter cannot be created or destroyed, only transmuted.
Now I just need to see if six months in the compost bin has the same effect on me.