The Parents Make Work For Idle Hands

It was phenomenally humid in my office yesterday. As you may know the office in which I dwell is in the centre of the building and has no windows to peer from or open in case of hot weather conditions. We have a single fan and some sort of portable cooling machine to keep the sweat at bay. Unfortunately it doesn't work that well and makes a noise like a jet engine wrapped in sponge. Therefore you have to holler over it to make yourself heard which makes it difficult for me to hear co-workers because I'm half-deaf [or have selective hearing depending on what sex you talk to]. It was a relief to finally escape the sweltering clutches of desk-work at 4.30 and thought to myself "How does a pack of beer sound Phil?” Well, that sounds rather good!

I lugged the case home and unpacked them into the fridge with two in the freezer for good measure. Since I was sweating like a paedophile in a playground I jumped into the shower and everything was working out. Ah yes, refreshing shower, cold beer. Then it struck me - I have to go to the folks and work on the front garden! I knew this was too good to be true!

I reluctantly retrieved the slightly chilled beer from the freezer and put them back into the fridge for later consumption, got changed and awaited the arrival of my mother.

My idea of what had to be done turned out to be a tad different to what was actually required of me. Not only had the stones to be removed, they had to be shaken through a sieve into a bucket and then taken to the back garden to top up the pebbles around the fountain. Let me tell you, it is back breaking work sieving. I imagine you could make a mint as a chiropractor in the mid-west gold rush. Those fellas must have had L-shaped coffins.

We managed to get about half of the area cleared before dinner. It was a beautiful evening and would have been preferable doing other things such as lazing in the falling sun sipping a chilled white wine but there's something to be said for a spot of manual work in these sunny conditions. The repetitive work, chatting away to family and knowing that food will soon be on the table. There's a certain joy in there somewhere and it's been years since the Adamson boys did a spot of work together and it felt good.