All Thumbs - green ones

Signs of middle age.

1. Ear hair

2. catching your reflection in a bus stop window, and wondering who the old guy is, and whether you should offer him a seat.

3. being at bus-stops in the first place

4. gardening

5. gardening and enjoying it

Today saw us progress to item 5. The wife has decided that if you are going to start wearing gumboots with butterflies on them, then you may as well start getting your hands dirty. When I say her hands dirty, I actually mean her getting my hands dirty first.

" sweetheart, remember those railway sleepers left over from the old bridge ?". 'What, those really, really heavy ones'. " Yes, those - I thought we could build a raised bed to grow vegetables in. I will go to the nursery and buy all the plants, if you get started ". In marriage speak, that means you have 1.5 hours to get it built before she is back. In fairness, that was all in my imagination.

It was worse than that.

Not really. The wife went and bought plants, and then we waited until it was really raining hard, and then we started. Moira first weeded, dug over, and then added compost to 'the bed' while I huffed and puffed, and eventually 'swore the sleepers' into place. The tourettes version of Alan Titchmarsh finally had the last piece in place, and then Moira set to her planting. As it is summer it naturally was raining hard. Moira had to point an umbrella towards the ground so that the splashback did not keep hitting her in the eyes as she planted.

No doubt the rabbits will love it.

To complete the whole countryside sillyness, 3 of us lads have decided to resign from the male species, and are entering the Killearn fete ( Item 6 of middle age ) Best potato shaped into a body part, or world largest marrow? No. 'Best Cake Made By A Male'. No, seriously, that is a real category. I couldn't quite see why the 'x' and 'y' chromosomes might differ in front of an oven, after all it is not exactly the 'clean and jerk' required to get it out of the oven, (with my banana loaf last weekend almost proved the exception) but those are the local rules. With this in mind, Jo, Gav and myself have handed in our testicles, and are going for it. Banana loaf aside, my chocolate cake didn't actually compress any discs, so maybe it will get a flutter. I'll keep you posted on how Item 6 of middle age turns out.

Yesterday Moira rekindled an old passion, and took us to a local stables. It has been 20 years since she has had regular riding lessons, but they say it is like falling off a horse. To prove this she has booked herself a refresher lesson next Friday, and after a few of these, they will turn her loose into the local countryside. She is determined to make it a regular thing of it, and when Lily turns 4 she is also allowed to start lessons. It did not have exactly an auspicious start as while we were watching a group of girls go through their paces, Lily slipped off the steps and tumbled face first into the ground, wailing and crying, and almost spooking the horses.

Last week I went to Dublin for two days to attend our friend Elaine's wedding. Absolutely fantastic time had by all, and I caught up with old flatmates Barry and Dermot, who came all the way from Australia just to get hangovers. A proper Catholic service that made me feel guilt from the moment it started, until we walked outside. I feel guilty just saying that. Elaine and Michael booked a wonderful country manor, and the champagne started at 4pm, and we had fun all the way until we hit the pit at 4am. Barry and I shared a room, and could have recorded the 'trumpet voluntary' if we had been bothered, but instead I was woken at 07:15 as Barry kicked the window out, to save his life and my own. Ah, it brought back old memories for the pair of us.

Strangely I didn't tell the boys about the cake baking. Some stories are best left unsaid .....