Go to parents, have breakfast, go get turf... Ah well when you ring and ask about turf and they say "it gets delivered every Thursday", you kind of think they mean it. OK we're British so we're used to the "can't do" attitude. So get topsoil from one place while mum phones round for turf. Go to second garden centre for some dried up old sods and attitude from sales assistant. Grrrr.... the spirit of Basil Faulty lives on in this one.
Get turf and deliver to parents where friend Neil is making a very neat job of preparing ground with aforementioned topsoil.
I'm now officially knackered. But I persuaded to make two trips to dump. Where I meet second idiot of the day... Dump man "Oi wot are yer puttin' in yer car?" he seems keen to make sure the blue plastic sheet I'm using hasn't been dumped by someone else. My reply of "it's moy bleedin' sheet mate" reassures him his totting rights are not being violated by a hairy great goff.
Now during my trips too and from the dump I notice the M25 doesn't seem to be moving, in fact I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm seeing the same cars and lorries in much the same place as I cross the both to and from the dump. Not good as Angel will shortly be trying to join the M25 on her way to meet me at my parents. I call her to warn her of impeding slowness. Good she's lost and nowhere near the M25... well not good really, kind of bad actually as she's in her new car and it's overheating. Well long story cut short here... Car engine goes POOT! and she calls rescue truck, I find her by way of vague description of location and the power of mobile phone. Eventually we get home and say "Oooo! What a day".