We’re back home again – which doesn’t mean a lot although, in this case, it means my house.  We came in separate cars this time, I having left Reading first and leaving LT to close down the house and follow.  Having admired what Roses had done in the garden, I unpacked the car and then heard a car draw up.  Naturallyish enough, I assumed it was Tim, but it wasn’t; it was Alex, who is the son of a friend and, it transpires, temporarily between jobs.  This is something of a godsend, I’ve got quite a lot of things that aren’t strictly gardening, so not within the remit of what I ask Wince to do.  So Alex is coming tomorrow and I’ll pay him by the hour and we’ll take it from there.

Wince has looked after everything in the greenhouse beautifully, Roses has looked after the chickens and cats similarly.  Everything looks lovely.  There’s a lot to do though, it’s a busy time of year in the garden.  And socially.  And at the school.

Tim and I have been sharing Soan Papdi, to give us energy.  I’ve bought a couple of big boxes, by the way, to put out at the blog party.  I spread the love, darlings.