Less seriously, there has been a prolonged struggle to fit a new squeegee on to my mop. I have had to retire defeated. Although I set out to buy a new mop, with an easier was of replacing the sponge, it transpired that there was actually no alternative. They are all the same design. This provoked bitter thoughts about how such things are designed, probably by males who never actually mop the floor themselves, or, indeed, have ever had to replace the sponge. My fingers are not nimble enough to put in the little screws, which are too close to the edge. Perhaps a better model may be found if I ever get to the Great Hardware Shop in the Sky. I would not bet on it, though. Not that I ever do bet.
Prodded and inspired by a friend, who is a very competent perfectionist, and who is rich (she has just replaced her perfectly good Mercedes for an even better model), I have been attending to my tiny garden. She said my front verandah looked awful, and I should fix it all up. Hindered only slightly by the need to find new pots which I could actually lift and move about, I have repotted and moved things around the very limited available space, in the front, the back and the atrium space in the middle of the house, now made relatively glorious by the new drain fashioned by Fernando. I bought two fuchsias and a geranium, pruned the sorry looking palms, and now hope for the best, even despite the fact that the weather is going to get very hot. What I would really like is a Wollemi pine. However they are not available anywhere handy to me.
This is such a very urban area, with tiny gardens, that the few nurseries nearby tend to have very little variety. The local markets offer a better selection and I bought a new cumquat. The trees I have been harvesting for the last umpty years have been cut down - more and more apartments will be built on this hitherto derelict site (redeemed only by the cumquat harvest) - a devastating blow to my marmalade making career. So I bought a small tree. Of course I will be dead long before it gets to a size which would give a sufficient yield of fruit, but one must live in hope. The next search is for a pot large enough to accommodate the cumquat.
In between all this excitement, there has been a book fair, to which I have hied several times, making purchases on each visit, as well as picking up another several at the markets. There is a lot of reading to be done, but now that I am on my own, I do read much more, and with better concentration.
Actually instead of all this book and plant buying, I should turn my attention to the study, selection and purchase of a new vacuum cleaner. It does not sound like nearly as much fun....