my own personal fanclub

On the weekend I put six pairs of gardening gloves into the washing machine. (That’s three pairs each for all the gardening members of my household. A tad excessive you might think – but they date back to a couple of working bee days we’ve had where volunteers turn up to assist with more-than-two-person renovation tasks in return for a pair of gardening gloves, beer and a free lunch!)
Anyway, freshly laundered, I put them out on the line in the sunshine to dry. Little bit of sunshine and lots of wind – they’ll dry in no time.
As I pottered about the yard it was hard not to notice them flapping madly in the wind. At one stage I had the distinct impression that twelve little green and yellow hands were waving at me.
This was topped off by a particularly vicious gust of wind which whipped the gloves into a frenzy – it was just like an audience of six frantically applauding my gardening efforts.
In the midst of this chorus of approval I took a bow in the general direction of my ‘public’ hanging out on the clothes line.
And with a flourish disappeared inside the house to reward my fine efforts with a hot cup of tea ‘n a biscuit.