Extraordinary how good weeding feels in a nice frock of a quiet summer’s evening.
The marigolds were just a touch for comfort and hygiene. (And yes, I’m talking gloves, not plants. No foreign nonsense in MY garden.)
Just got back from the end-of-season writer’s group get-together. We all brought along a plate of something (I brought a mocha chocolate cake I’d baked) and lounged about on the grass outside, then went in, read a few pieces, drank bubby, ate nibbles, quipped and pulled ‘stuff’ about in a way that doesn’t really happen in the outside world. There was lots of ‘stuff’ going around. All very enjoyable.
Came back while it was still light, and a beautiful evening, so I got out the aforementioned bucket and marigolds and did a bit of weeding. What with the incessant rain the whole of the week, the poor garden wasn’t looking its best but a little tug here and there and things soon fall into place. I also found (this morning) that the lawnmower the people in the house before left us doesn’t actually work, so I’ll have to nip out and get something tomorrow. Fingers crossed that the rain holds off for a couple of days so I can use it.
… OK have to add this. Online radio programme DJ announcing brightly: “And that was the mint-sauce free zone that is ‘sheep may safely graze’ by JS Bach…”