The men in my life

So what is the delectable Paul Newman doing at the head of this post?   Gratuitous is the word that comes to mind – and the fact that none of the men in my life actually look like this.

For a long time now the dog has thought that he was the only man in my life.   As such he considers himself to be very important, especially when it comes to policing the front gate.  In payment for this he commandeers the best seat in the house, the whole bed, demands  to be fed on time and to be cuddled and noticed on his terms.

Now he has to share me with significant men in my life that occasionally spend a day or so at my house.  Sometimes I even visit them leaving the dog at home.

Firstly there is Mr Bunning the purveyor of all things that can make a girl d.i.y. renovator go weak at the knees. Someone once told me that a good hardware shop is better than sex (??? comments please).

Then there are Todd, Matt, Dean and Alan.

Todd is a whizz with anything that requires electricity; Matt can do things with copper pipe and water heaters; Dean can screw, hammer and nail it; and Alan?  Alan is the kindly brickie who help me find these wonderful men.

All I need now is a fantastic gutterer and I will be gutteringly grateful!

PS 18th Sept:   I missed one very important man in my life.  I was reminded of him when I was in the garden today.   His name is Pierre.   Pierre de Ronsard in fact.  Pierre is an aristocrat who gives me flowers almost daily.  He is elegant and looks stunning in my home.   Pierre is a glorious climbing rose.

 

 

 

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