Improving access for migratory fish

That Is what this work is about, at Arundel Mill pond, near Stroud. The full text of the title on an explanatory notice reads 'Improving habitat and access for migratory fish across the Severn Vale'. Maybe the old mill-race is going to be altered. Access to the mill race impossible at present because of the ongoing works and the fallen tree limbs, which have been chopped up.

I walk this way sometimes, as it's right by the canal and the river Frome, and provides an alternative way to walk home from town or Waitrose. Today I sat and listened to Let it Be on my phone. I was put out because I had just found out that we may be so short staffed at holiday club next week that we won't necessarily get a 'full half-hour' for (unpaid) lunch break. We're not legally entitled to it, because we'll only be working six hours and not a minute longer. At the age of 57, I'm just too old for this treatment. However, the youngsters are thin on the ground this year, because they've got better paid jobs in supermarkets or vaccination clinics.

I can't tell you how much I actually look forward to lunch break when I'm working! Not necessarily for the Pot Rice or last night's leftovers, but for the opportunity to stop, breathe, check my phone, and chat to staff members that I may not see very often. Make a cup of tea and drink it all. These things can't always be done in ten minutes. We are not yet robots.

When I got home, I changed into my grey prison sweatsuit again and chopped up more f***ing tree branches and nettles and brambles. I wish I could say I notice a vast difference in the garden. The overgrowth is so bad that it's more of a question when I'll start uncovering mortal remains beneath the trailing twisted roots. Or perhaps I'll fall down a badger hole, twist a limb and become the next victim to Gardening Fever.

Talking of hospitals (as I was, at least in my head) my friend D has got a date for his prostate op. With surgical skill, and good fortune, he won't have to keep the catheter afterwards. I asked him if he was pleased to have a date at last, and he replied that he was worried that his heart might give out! Luckily, this was a text exchange, so I could not hit him, but had to reply briskly that his heart would go oooooo honnn.

Tomorrow is Sunday. I've delegated someone else to go and see GG, while I stay at home and do more gardening and have a rest, before the week of All Work and No Lunch begins.