Growing old disgracefully

By GOD

The Prof and I share a car.  He takes care of it.  I dump snotty hankies in the door bins, drag filthy stuff to the dump, spill milk on the carpets and generally abuse it.  So while the Prof was off to the capital today, I treated it to a 'mini-valet'.  Sitting in the sun, watching these guys working, I was tempted to ask if I could pull into a bay and have a wee bit of a makeover myself.  Think it might cost more than £15. 

I had a delightful day, pottering around the garden in the sweet spring air.  Is there is anything more pleasant than planting the first seeds in a warm greenhouse while surrounded by blackbirds singing?

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