Snippy Snip Snip. Here I Come!

I've been feeling rather depressed recently - the weather, orphanhood, stuff like that. Yesterday I got called upon by two distressed people who needed my support, so I decided I was fed up of being in a funk and that I would make a big effort to crawl out of the slough of despond.

So today I gardened. I gardened for six and a half hours.

I edged.

I weeded.

I trimmed.

I divided.

I tied up.

I watered.

I fertilised.

I potted on.

I made two little planters for Matty's grave and I took lots of climbing hydrangea and vitis cuttings.

But I missed the little snips we used to have when Dee Mac was here. They were dinky little sharp things that could do delicate work when it came to taking cuttings. You could put them in your pocket and occasionally when you'd move or bend they'd stick into you. They'd give you just a little prick - no harm done.

I decided to seek them out on the internet which, incidentally, seems to be on a go-slow today. I tried Amazon. I found just what I wanted. I tried to buy them and I wasn't allowed! They are apparently too hazardous to send to Northern Ireland or the Channel Islands. I daresay I could kill someone with them but it would take ages and to tell the truth I've got much scarier sharpishness in my kitchen drawer.