Way back in 2011, I had cause to write to Santa after Christmas, to ask him to help Mr Dunnit better interpret my clues as to the presents I would like. Well, I don't like to judge, so I'm going to say that Santa didn't get my letter.
This year, chez Dunnit, we have been plotting and planning more building works. It's serious stuff, and we've worked hard in terms of budget and material choices and plans. My surgery has inevitably delayed the upheaval, but things are on the turn. Delivery of materials for this project have become quite frequent.
It was my Birthday last month. When he asked if there was anything in particular I would like, I was happy to say there was not. Not even a surprise. I have no wants or needs.
A couple of hours after this conversation and with a sheaf of paperwork on his lap, he asked me if I'd like some precious metal for my birthday. Now, remember the reason for my letter to Santa. I said it would be nice, but absolutely unnecessary. 'Of course it's necessary', he said 'and it would make me happy - we could think of it as a joint present'. How sweet.
Be not surprised though gentle reader, when
I tell you that the steel lintel - stage one in the building process - has
been delivered. In his defence, it is a precious metal - it will hold up the side
of my lovely home at some point. Joint present? I guess it is. I wasn't fooled, but thought you might recognise this thought process!
|the length of the garage and oh, there's the mower again.|