All this hoo-ha about Scottish independence is starting to get on my nerves so it is just as well it is almost all over bar the shouting. Yes, I can see it is all very exciting for the people who live there and yes I can see that a lot of Scots are deeply affectionate towards their homeland and want to break free from the bureaucracies of England and do their own thing. But it holds no personal interest to me and I really don't care if Scotland stays or goes. And having said that I dare say I shall now get lectured again for voicing my opinion, but I don't care about that, either.
My experience of Scotland is that it is colder, wetter and darker than England and that is not a good thing for someone who likes to stay dry, fairly warm and has a spot of S.A.D around January time. It has lovely mountain-type hilly bits and historic cities, but so does England. In my pre-vegetarian days I tried haggis and it was disgusting. I have tried a sip of whiskey. Ditto disgusting. I think the bag pipes are an abomination to the ears and all things musical. I like a spot of tartan but I can live without it. I do not intend on holidaying in Scotland. Scotland, as far as I am concerned, can independence itself away and good luck to it.
On the immediate domestic front, work is very busy and I continue to 'Sews, Grows and Prose' to good effect. Well, it has been more 'Knits, Plans and Reads' this week. I have been prevented from spending too much time in the garden because of the whole roofing malarkey because being outside when one has 6 roofing chaps thirty feet above your head is a dangerous occupation. Bits of stuff come flying down at random moments and, not wishing to become an inadvertent victim of concussion via a stray bit of tile or guttering I have tended to hide indoors behind the sofa with Flora.
And I have been surprised at how oppressing it has felt to have one's home covered in scaffolding. Who would have thought a few planks and iron bars would block out so much light? Haven't been able to have the windows open either, because the edge of the scaffolding has been right up against the glass. And it has been very hot this week, too. Phew and scorchio!
It matters not, though. The roof is done and is waiting for one final check by the roofing boss man before he signs off the job and presents us with a 20 year guarantee. And relieves us of another hefty lump of money. And hopefully takes away his scaffolding as soon as possible.
We have enough old battening to use as kindling for years though, some of it still cluttering up the front drive until I can secure some strong sacks in which to store it. The front lawn needs mowing because the grass has taken on the teenage boy floppy hair look. The hedge also needs trimming because it has shot out sideways and is in danger of engulfing the magnolia. But none of these things can be done until the scaffolding has gone. Scaffolding is VERY oppressive. A bit, I imagine, how some Scots folk feel about governance from Westminster.
What I have learned, though, is that I have very little tolerance for building work and for mess. I like neat and tidy, organised and functional. If ever we build our own house then a) I would make sure we had enough money at the start to complete the project in a reasonable time and b) I'd be project managing with an enormous broom in tow and a tin of cake at hand.
It has taken us ten years to get our home how we like it. It is a very different place to the house we bought just after we got married. Our next house will benefit enormously from the mistakes and victories we have experienced in doing up this place. We know what we like. We know what works for us and what doesn't.
And if Scotland becomes independent then I hope it settles into its new state without too much mess and with enough wherewithal to afford exactly the curtains and tiles it wants.