Good Deeds

I'm normally a bit rubbish at doing good deeds. I vaguely mean to be a bit more giving, but then I get all caught up in myself again, and forget. So when I manage to do it, I like to shout about it. None of this selfless self-effacing nonsense for me, if I Do Something Good I want to get the full benefit with a few pats on the back, thank you very much.

So, I just got back from my grandparents' house, where I spent the weekend Doing Good Deeds like installing phone extensions, buying / putting up white boards (very handy for writing reminders on for those with failing memories), gardening, picking fruit, cooking, generally being a "grand daughter," as my grandad said. He's 97, you know. And my grandma is 93. And they are the sweetest grandparents in the world - straight out of a fairy tale. They even live in a fairy-tale house, with a minitaure steam railway at the bottom of the garden, which will stop and pick you up if you stick your hand out. I kid you not.

The way they look after each other is amazing. OK, so they need a little help these days but they still live in their own house and do a lot of their own stuff.

I'll write more about it (I hope - I've made a million little notes) during the week, but for now it's pat on the back for Clare time. I know, I know, I should shut up about it. But, well, I'm proud. Of them, and of me. So there.

Ow, but my fingers are too sore to type any more. Did tons of weeding today and my fingers are covered in slug slime, nettle stings, rose-thorn-pricks, bramble scratches and ground-in earth.


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