I think the most disappointing element of it all was the venom with which my wife reacted to what had been from my side an attempt to contribute to the management of our garden under reduced circumstances.
I guess I would have expected more of a “never mind darling, at least you tried, but perhaps it’s a bit ambitious just yet. Here, sit down and drink this tea I’ve prepared” etc…
However, the reality was more along the lines of unnecessarily prolonged repetition of “what kind of (four letter word) wit are you?”
My lower legs and ankles still look as if I’ve been indulging in some strange form of self flaggelation and my arm has most definitely regressed. I would I think, have reasonably expected more spousal sympathy don’t you think?
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