Mr Moregeous is quite used to my Photographic Tourette’s, on holiday I’ll suddenly shout Stop The Bloody Car! when I’ve spotted a fabulous view, random wildlife snap or unusual property, but it doesn’t occur that often in Manchester. It happened on the way to a job the other day though, when I saw a vision of myself in 40 years. There, painting her gate in the sunshine with the stubbiest brush I’d ever seen, was the marvellous Patsy, fully made up and dressed in a very stylish checkered pastel blue decorating jacket. The phrase Absolutely Fabulous came to mind. I asked her nicely if I could take her photo and she graciously agreed, though stating it better not go in the paper as she thought she looked a state! We spoke for a while and she told me that she had to paint her gate because her husband, a joiner who’d done everything around the house, died last year, he had ‘left her’ she said, clearly still upset, but getting on with it. I thought she was quite superb.
If I’m still painting my own gate when I’m Patsy’s age, I’ll be a very happy woman. I fear that not many of the young women today’s society is churning out will ever either know how to paint a gate, or be bothered to do so.