Pat was required to help measure for the wooding up, but as I had bought a cheap tape measure, it wasn't long enough, as it only went up to 9ft long. It was clearly a girls' tape measure. I have been nagged and lectured about buying tools. I once bought a cheap set of screwdrivers, just for keeping under the kitchen sink, for moments when varying loud and annoying toys ran out of battery power. Pat keeps his toolbox somewhere I can't generally find it, and so having my own tools to hand seemed fine to me. But each time I pointed Pat in the direction of the cupboard under the kitchen sink to use a screwdriver, he would wince. Eventually, I convinced him that they were perfectly adequate for the job in hand. He suspiciously scanned the item, started to use it...and promptly bent it. "You broke my screwdriver!" I accused. "That's because they're made of cheese!" came the reply. "well I've used that screwdriver lots of times, and never had any problems. It's never done that before!" and so it went on. So when I bought a cheap tape measure for me to use when I needed to measure something important, like windows, to measure up for curtains, I felt I had contributed to the face of womanhood. I had a tape measure. And I know how to use it. Yaaay! Today that tape measure let me down, because it just couldn't quite measure up!
I have a bad record with tools, it seems. The fork that Pat is brandishing has just been re-fashioned, having become a victim of my usage. Admittedly, it was Sacha who bought it, but it was me who bent it. One of the prongs was at a 45' angle to the others, after a particularly unforgiving session of weeding, where it struck a stubborn thistle bush. Pat fixed it, and he looked so good holding it, I thought it was only fair that he tried it out, to make sure it worked properly. Half an hour later, and he'd dug over a bed. Although he complained about it, I think he enjoyed it, really - otherwise he wouldn't have finished the job, would he?!
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