I have a gardener coming over on Saturday to quote on restoring my overgrown backyard to order.
He did a bit of landscaping for DD, who proclaimed him to be a very hard worker and forwarded his details to me.
The gardener and I texted each other back and forth on Tuesday night to come up with a suitable time to meet.
The next morning, DD sent me this (actual, no joke) photo of him:
Quite a striking lad, eh?
If you’re into that sort of thing, which I’ve realised I’m not.
And never have been.
The realisation crystallised when I showed the gardener’s actual, no joke photo to a female friend, who said she’d be hanging out the kitchen window gawping at him the whole time if he was mowing her lawn.
I don’t have the slightest inclination to do that.
While I can recognise when someone is well built or very good looking, it doesn’t move me.
My celebrity crushes in my much younger years are a case in point: Neil Finn, Kevin Bacon, Michael J Fox (yes, really), Joshua Jackson …
Even my long-standing crush on David Duchovny didn’t have the slightest thing to do with his abs. I’m a face and personality girl all the way.
And not a Zac Ephron type of face. Classic good looks also do nothing for me. I like an interesting face.
As for personality, someone who makes me smile or think wins every time over someone who has movie star good looks.
When I met DD, my verdict to my sister was that he had a “nice face” and made me laugh.
These days I can’t stop staring at his face because I think it’s so spunky. He rolls his eyes when I give him compliments as he’s heard me fuss over the dogs and tell them how handsome they are.
DD is much more handsome than Bilbo.
DD is also obviously very comfortable in our relationship if he’s recommending a hot gardener to me.
Let’s see if the bloke gardens as attractively as he poses.
But my lady garden is definitely not on the to-do list.
Song of the day: Right Said Fred “I’m too sexy”