Paving

I don't know quite how I have come by the massive good fortune of having landscaper M work for me. Although he is very down to earth (literally), it seems that a lot of his work is in gardens that people use for six weeks a year, when they are not in their first or second homes in tax havens. He showed me some photos today of a mammoth driveway he did for someone who has six cars.

When he told me that someone else offered him a £10,000 increase on his quote if he would work for them, I had to warn him there was no way I could do the same.

I really enjoy working alongside him, working out the logistics for the day's work, selecting and moving bricks and pavers while he does the skilled work of laying them impeccably, sharing the arithmetic that decides how to space them, looking at them laid before the mortar dries to identify which ones need to be nudged a millimetre or two, talking through possible solutions to problems. He hadn't been aware of the one I mentioned yesterday until about lunchtime today. I came up with half the solution, which involved using two pavers that will make me smile for ever more (rather than crowbar up a better-matched couple from outside the cinema), and he had an absolutely inspired suggestion for the other half of the problem. To be implemented next week if the weather is kind.


This evening I walked over these un-stolen pavers to see the film Nickel Boys. It has had rare and coveted 5-star reviews from film critics but I was lost: irritated by the highly praised cinematography that mixed first-person viewpoint with contemporary news footage, by flashbacks (forwards?) that I couldn't follow, and by elliptical dialogue.

There. I have outed myself as a Rotten Tomato rather than a member of the filmerati.