Rainy Day Blip/Yellow Peril

I own a perfectly good pair of black Dunlop wellies. I have had them for probably 40 years and they are still in perfect working order. I think they came with me on a school field trip in about 1978 and I think my dad wrote my name inside them. They are a UK size 6 European 39 and they pinch. After about fifteen minutes of wear they become excruciating, which may go some way to explain how come they have lasted such a long time in such good condition. Some years ago I decided to find replacements and I found a lovely pair with roses on and a faux lace-up front panel. They cost £5 from Primark and very quickly proved themselves to be worth even less. Then the other week I spotted these beauties in the local garden centre.

I love bright yellow! Such a happy colour! My wedding dress was bright yellow.

I have seen builders wearing wellies just like this, marching about in freshly poured wet concrete so I imagine they are good and tough. They cost 25€ which is what I would expect for good and reliable without being a household name. They are a UK size 6 European 40 and are nicely roomy. I thought I would save them up for a blip when I needed cheering up.

***********************

Having dismantled the exhibition a couple of weeks ago, we had promised to take it up to show the neighbours. It includes some pictures and quite a lot of French words so they might like to see it.

Apart from that little stressful hiccup last week they've been having a brilliant time since they finally acquiesced to having live-in hands-on help with them this year. In fact they have been having such a good time that B is considering extending their stay by another fortnight. He doesn't seem to realise that what has made all the difference is that he has not had to lift a finger because he has dumped all responsibility onto A's lovely attentive 29 year-old physiotherapist, D. D of course has no choice, he has other work commitments in France and must return next Saturday regardless of whether or not A&B change their plans.

But if D leaves next Saturday without A&B then suddenly B will have to resume full responsibility for A, the misery and despair of which will hit him like a train within an hour, by which time it will be too late and he will have no choice but to escort A all the way home to France unassisted. I have written to B's niece in the hope that she will telephone him and persuade him not to be a complete idiot. Otherwise I fear we will find ourselves up to our boot-tops in shit once again.