The polytunnel cometh and Denise and Andy runneth...

On Monday, I was fired up and ready to phone the polytunnel company and ask, all casual-like, that as it's been 4 weeks since I placed my polytunnel order with them and 4 weeks since they took the money from my credit card, WHEN WERE THEY GOING TO DELIVER THE B****Y THING BECAUSE THE TOMATOES/AUBERGINES/PEPPERS ARE TURNING INTO GREENHOUSE TRIFFIDS???? However, they beat me to it and called immediately after breakfast to say my order had been dispatched and would arrive on Wednesday.

'Morning or afternoon?' I enquired. The office lady didn't know but said if I wanted to call back on Wednesday morning they would be in a better position to tell me. What position would that be, I wondered. Organised??

Anyhow, it transpired the question was irrelevant because the polytunnel arrived yesterday. A very small delivery man with a single front tooth appeared at lunchtime in a very large lorry and carried many long parcels, bendy parcels and big boxes into the backgarden, arranging them artfully over the garden furniture, before getting me to sign his clipboard and disappearing toute de suite.

I have no idea if all the right parts have been delivered because I could find neither an invoice nor a piece of paper saying 'This is what should be in your delivery'. It looks like it's all there. There are wooden bits (the doors), shiny bendy metal bits (the hoops for the main frame), straight metal bits (the crop bars and side braces), square metal bits (base plates) and polythene (cover). There is hot spot tape to protect the polythene from frying on the hoops in the summer and repair tape to mend the holes in the polythene your husband made with the scissors in his eagerness to open the delivery box. (Actually, he didn't damage the polythene, but it was a close call).There are also many screw bits, poky bits, twiddly bits and a booklet entitled 'It's All Yours Now, Good Luck, We're Off!'

Andy was very keen to open boxes and read manuals when he arrived home. This is unusual for him as he isn't a great believer in the reading of instructions, preferring the 'chuck it all on the floor and see which bit goes where' method of construction. But no, he's made a list of all the tools needed to construct the tunnel and this morning, over breakfast, issued the first instruction.

'We need to clear the site of weeds,' he said.
Was this the real 'we' or the Royal 'we', I wondered.
'We'll go to the allotment this evening,' he said. 'And start clearing the site.'

Operation Polytunnel is underway.

Meanwhile, I am psyching myself up to start running. I purchased a health and fitness magazine yesterday which had a special 'Anyone Can Run' feature. I also purchased 'Organic Garden and Home' because it had an article on ethical burials and eco-friendly coffins. It's odd, isn't it, how ideas can link together in sometimes sinister ways...

Anyway, the running article was very informative and provided an easy to follow programme for building up towards a 5K run.
'How far is 5K in proper money?' I ask.
'3.107 miles,' says Tybalt.
'How did you know that?' I ask, very impressed at his mathematical prowess.
'I used the conversion feature on my mobile,' he says.

Right. So just over 3 miles. I can walk that in under an hour if I get a shift on. I try and think where I walk to and from that would give me a more tangible idea of how far 5K is and whether I could run it and remain vertical. I decide it is the distance of a round trip to the allotment.
'I could run to the allotment and back,' I say.
'Why would you want to do that?' asks Tybalt.
'It would be quicker?' I say. I realise how very feeble this reason sounds. Unless, of course, I was being chased by a bear in which case it sounds a very excellent reason indeed.

'And which coffin would you like?' asks Tybalt.
'That one there,' I say, pointing to a nice slim willow number with flowers woven in the top.
'You're far too fat for that,' says Tybalt, because tact is one of his better qualities.
'I won't be after I've been following my running programme for a few weeks,' I say.
'True,' said Tybalt. 'Are these two topics related in any way, perchance?'
'I wasn't planning them to be,' I say.

But who can tell in the Great Adventure that is Life? Who knows what is around the Corner of Fate, up the Cul-de-Sac of Co-incidence, along the Avenue of Chance, on the other side of the Fence of Frisson?

Sometimes, you've just got to go with the flow and not think too hard about these things. Because sometimes, if you think too hard, you can think yourself out of some pretty amazing life-changing decisions.

(This last thought was brought to you by 'Psychic Mentor, part of the 'Message From the Other Side' Upstairs Crew who sometimes chuck their thoughts in with mine for no apparent or sane reason. I hope therefore, it makes sense to someone out there who reads this today. If it doesn't, I apologise for my lunacy and promise to keep taking the tablets...!)