sparkindarkness: (STD)

So I do not strangle him.

Sunday dawns and Sparky begins his normal morning routine.

Wait, that’s kind of a lie… So Sunday dawns, Sparky sleeps through most of it, because there’s no damned excuse for waking Sparky up before noon on a Sunday then begins the normal afternoon routine of seeking coffee and mercilessly destroying anything that stands in the way.

Suitably restocked on caffeine I notice the FISH are doing what can only be described as begging. Beloved is also nowhere about – I should have noticed earlier by the absence of extremely unnecessary noise he always feels the need to produce in the morning early afternoon.

Having fed the fish (which would be a lot lot less irritating if the procedure for these picky creatures didn’t require a gazillion different pots, several arcane ceremonies and a ritual sacrifice) I went in quest for Beloved.

He was in the garden – digging it up. It looks like he had been doing so tirelessly since dawn. We don’t have a deck any more. We don’t have a gazebo any more. We don’t have a rock garden any more.  We have an expanse of mud.

It seems we are returning to his previous obsession of turning the garden into an allotment and trying to grow  all our vegetables in Yorkshire’s claggy, clay laden soil. It occurs to me I’ve lost ground, since last time he planned this I forced him NOT to dig up the whole garden. Damn, he must have been stealth planning this – damn you fishies, you were just a feint!

The fish are, of course, forgotten. New obsession now. *Sigh* I’d be more irritated if he weren’t so endearingly cute when he starts a new project. He’s like a kid with a new toy, all excited and enthusiastic *pats*

At least this obsession won’t spill water on the carpets can could result in tasty things to nibble on (other than Beloved post scrubbing the mud off him).

sparkindarkness: (Default)
So I go down to check, expecting to find a sopping wet carpet spotted with shards of broken glass, a ton of little pebbles and maybe the odd rotting fish and find...

Nothing.

OH there's a tank missing. The tank he assured me he wasn't going to install until he mastered one tank. But that's it. No wet carpet, no dead fishies. No razor glass shards.

*eyes narrow*

Soooooooo what happened, and when is it going to come lurking out of hiding to bite me in the arse? Are there hidden shards of glass somewhere? Has some sopping wet cloths been hidden to grow all mildewy and nasty? Are these swimmy fish undead? Are they floating backwards and forwards eager for the chance to eat my brains? Are we looking at the beginning of a zombie apocalypse? This could be the beginning of the end! If so I'm totally ready.

The zombie fish are watching me, but I am ready...
sparkindarkness: (Default)
Heard from downstairs

CRASH - the sound of breaking glass
SPLASH - the sound of a LOT of spilling water
FUCK - the sound of many obscenities.

Hmmm...

Sparky: What happened?
Beloved: Nothing! (why do I not believe him? Why oh Why?)
Sparky: uh-huh... do you need help with that?
Beloved: No! Nothing happened. It's all fine.
Sparky: ooookay. I'm up here for 4 hours. After that I'm coming down to see if you're lying to me.
Beloved: would I lie?
Sparky: I should hope not, O I shall be shocked and appalled. Yes yes I shall.


I have the fear.

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April 2015

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