Tuesday 18 June 1967
Warm again. Did the kitchen floor first thing and put the washing out before it grew too hot. Mrs Larkin over about the milk being late. Nothing much to report.
Still haven’t pulled that rose out.
It was there when we moved in and it’s never come to much. Thin and thorny, hardly any colour. I don’t suppose anyone ever did anything with it. Just left it.
He says it looks miserable and wants something tidy there instead. I know what he means. It does look as though it’s been there longer than it should.
Took the fork out again today. Meant to get it done before putting the washing on, but I stood there longer than I should have. The ground’s dry round it and hard. The wall keeps the heat in. No one’s ever cut it back or fed it, far as I can tell.
Put the fork in once and drew it back out.
That’s when I thought of Dad. Don’t know why. He used to say you saw to things properly, whether they came good or not. Said it weren’t the thing’s fault if no one had bothered with it.
The children don’t notice it. The dog doesn’t take any notice of it. It’s not in anyone’s way. It’s just there.
He asked again this evening and I said I’d see to it soon. I probably will. I keep saying that.
It flowered once. Small pale thing. Didn’t last. I cut it and put it in a glass by the sink. Gone by evening.
I could pull it up still. There’s nothing stopping me.
Wouldn’t take ten minutes.
The freezer needs defrosting and I’ve been putting that off as well.