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The Wallet Took a Beating *** Sorry I’ve no written or posted much, Life grabbed hold with a gardener’s touch. One wee job turned into ten, And somehow, I’m employed again. The hedges called for shape and trim, Grass grew tall and thick at whim. The strimmer sang its angry tune, While weeds marched in by afternoon. Even my wild garden said, “Sort yourself, pal, trim this bed.” So flower boxes, tubs and pots, Filled the car in endless lots. Trips tae the garden centre came thick and fast, Each one dearer than the last. The wallet screamed with every scan, While the wife just shook her head. “Ye dinnae need more plants,” says she, As I smuggled home another tree. I nodded wise, said, “Aye, you’re right,” Then bought solar lamps that very night. Two days graft on paths and stone, Patio scrubbed tae near-new tone. Then proudly placed, with secret grin, A brand-new garden bench tucked in. Couldnae hide that blooming thing, Too big tae pass as “just old spring.” I braced myself for earache fierce, A roasting aimed straight through my ears. But out she came with black tea brewed, And words that instantly changed my mood. “It looks quite nice.” That was enough. Wallet forgiven — marriage tough. Aye, black tea now, that’s all I get, No honey swirl, no cake just yet. No biscuits hiding near the cup, Life’s turned hard and sugarless rough. Few weeks back I booked myself For the annual service o’ fading health. Blood tests, poking, prodding too, The full old-man mechanic crew. Results came back — “You’re doing fine.” Then came that dreaded little line… “BUT…” There’s always one lurking there, Floating gently through the air. “Your sugar levels are a wee bit high.” At that moment, I could’ve cried. I said, “Hold on, this cannae be! I’m in the gym five days a week! Running 5Ks, lifting steel, Surely cake’s a balanced meal?” I wisely failed tae mention then, The size of slices consumed at ten. Or honey poured with fearless hand, Like syrup flooding promised land. “You need tae cut your sugar down, Come back next month, we’ll look around.” No cake. No honey. No sweet delight. I nearly vanished from the light. For one dark second in my head, I thought things best left unsaid. “When was the last time YOU saw a gym?” Then instantly felt ashamed within. She’s only doing what nurses do, Keeping stubborn old fools in tune. Still… no cake feels cruel somehow, I’m grieving Dundee cake right now. Then fate decided, just for fun, It wasn’t finished — not by a ton. The electric blanket gave up dead, A tragedy for ageing bed. My wife cried out in instant fear, “It needs replaced immediately here!” Now suddenly she’s spending free, While the wallet glared accusingly. Still… slipping into warming sheets, On aching bones feels pure relief. So after several clicks online, Another purchase joined the line. And if that wisnae bad enough, The washing machine turned properly rough. On every spin it bounced about, Like break dancing had broken out. Across the kitchen floor it flew, Performing moves I never knew. That’s another bill coming down the track, The poor old wallet near snapped in half. So, here I sit with plain black tea, Reflecting on life’s assault on me. No honey comfort, no cake in sight, Just budgeting grief most every night. But truth be told, through all the fuss, The gardens bloomed because of us. The patio shines, the bench sits proud, And laughter still lives in this house loud. Life gets costly, strange and sore, But somehow still worth battling for. Even without cake… for now at least… Though honestly — that feels the hardest piece.
0
May 16
May 16, 2026 at 4:40 AM UTC
LongJohnPaulBaldry
Life Got Busy
The Wallet Took a Beating *** Sorry I’ve no written or posted much, Life grabbed hold with a gardener’s touch. One wee job turned into ten, And somehow, I’m employed again. The hedges called for shape and trim, Grass grew tall and thick at whim. The strimmer sang its angry tune, While weeds marched in by afternoon. Even my wild garden said, “Sort yourself, pal, trim this bed.” So flower boxes, tubs and pots, Filled the car in endless lots. Trips tae the garden centre came thick and fast, Each one dearer than the last. The wallet screamed with every scan, While the wife just shook her head. “Ye dinnae need more plants,” says she, As I smuggled home another tree. I nodded wise, said, “Aye, you’re right,” Then bought solar lamps that very night. Two days graft on paths and stone, Patio scrubbed tae near-new tone. Then proudly placed, with secret grin, A brand-new garden bench tucked in. Couldnae hide that blooming thing, Too big tae pass as “just old spring.” I braced myself for earache fierce, A roasting aimed straight through my ears. But out she came with black tea brewed, And words that instantly changed my mood. “It looks quite nice.” That was enough. Wallet forgiven — marriage tough. Aye, black tea now, that’s all I get, No honey swirl, no cake just yet. No biscuits hiding near the cup, Life’s turned hard and sugarless rough. Few weeks back I booked myself For the annual service o’ fading health. Blood tests, poking, prodding too, The full old-man mechanic crew. Results came back — “You’re doing fine.” Then came that dreaded little line… “BUT…” There’s always one lurking there, Floating gently through the air. “Your sugar levels are a wee bit high.” At that moment, I could’ve cried. I said, “Hold on, this cannae be! I’m in the gym five days a week! Running 5Ks, lifting steel, Surely cake’s a balanced meal?” I wisely failed tae mention then, The size of slices consumed at ten. Or honey poured with fearless hand, Like syrup flooding promised land. “You need tae cut your sugar down, Come back next month, we’ll look around.” No cake. No honey. No sweet delight. I nearly vanished from the light. For one dark second in my head, I thought things best left unsaid. “When was the last time YOU saw a gym?” Then instantly felt ashamed within. She’s only doing what nurses do, Keeping stubborn old fools in tune. Still… no cake feels cruel somehow, I’m grieving Dundee cake right now. Then fate decided, just for fun, It wasn’t finished — not by a ton. The electric blanket gave up dead, A tragedy for ageing bed. My wife cried out in instant fear, “It needs replaced immediately here!” Now suddenly she’s spending free, While the wallet glared accusingly. Still… slipping into warming sheets, On aching bones feels pure relief. So after several clicks online, Another purchase joined the line. And if that wisnae bad enough, The washing machine turned properly rough. On every spin it bounced about, Like break dancing had broken out. Across the kitchen floor it flew, Performing moves I never knew. That’s another bill coming down the track, The poor old wallet near snapped in half. So, here I sit with plain black tea, Reflecting on life’s assault on me. No honey comfort, no cake in sight, Just budgeting grief most every night. But truth be told, through all the fuss, The gardens bloomed because of us. The patio shines, the bench sits proud, And laughter still lives in this house loud. Life gets costly, strange and sore, But somehow still worth battling for. Even without cake… for now at least… Though honestly — that feels the hardest piece.
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