The reason is that I didn’t write yesterday, of course – this morning’s post is really yesterday’s.

Tim has headed back to his place, where I will join him next week.  I’ve got a lot to do here first though, mostly in the garden because, by the time we get back, everything that’s now waiting for better weather before being planted out will be bursting out of the pots.  I’ve got Thursday and Friday in hand – which hasn’t stopped me arranging to meet a friend for coffee in Beccles tomorrow.

Tomorrow is young Hadrian Swallow’s fifth birthday.  He is Al and Dilly’s youngest, an adorably solemn little boy.  Ro and Dora’s first baby is due in three weeks’ time – we’re all tremendously looking forward to having a baby in the family again.

I’m not going to bother to light the fire tonight – it’s not been warm enough many evenings to do without – but have put on the electric fire in the study.  Unless there’s anything I Must Watch on the television, of course, but that seems unlikely.  I may watch something via the computer, or listen to music – though LT and I both love music, he is deeply unimpressed that I listen on the computer or, worse, on my phone.  He doesn’t get how someone who is reasonably musical can bear poor-quality reproduction.  There’s no argument on the subject of course; he’s right.  I’m just not too bothered.  I’m musical but he’s a musician, that’s the difference, I think.  This afternoon, potting on tomato plants in the greenhouse, I was quite happy listening to Hoagy Carmichael on my phone.