Yagnub had its garden Street Fair today so I took two large shopping baskets and we set off. Walking there and back is too much for my hip now (and carrying the plants that I had in mind to buy would be beyond us anyway, not enough arms for a start) so I drove most of the way and we parked on the Dam and walked the last few hundred yards. The weather pixies had been kind and the whole road was packed with people walking very, very slowly, enjoying themselves.
It was fun. Fewer plant stalls, I think, than last year, but there was still a good choice. We bought various perennials, herbs and plants for tubs and had to make a half-time trip back to the car. On our return, we bought lunch from our butcher’s hog roast stand and leaned against a wall to eat it, then went into a local pub/restaurant for a pint. They’d got some rather tempting home-make cakes and so on and we each had a little strawberry tart. We saw various friends – of mine, that is, I’m still introducing LT to people.
Later, we potted up or planted out everything that we could (not the more tender plants, I treat those pixies with respect rather than complete trust) and we feel remarkably self-satisfied.
Last night, we watched the BBC’s production of Henry VI Part 2/3 – they’ve condensed three plays into two. I watched the first part last week on iPlayer, while LT was away and so had more than a vague idea this time of whose side people were on – neither of us had seen any of the plays before and I’ve only a moderate handle on the Wars of the Roses. A lot of deaths, mostly the gory sort, which was very jolly. I’m looking forward immensely to Richard III next week, which is a play I know very well. I can almost sing along, as it were.
I’ve finally got around to writing my formal resignation letter to the chairman of governors. I’ve still got a half term to go, but the scent of freedom is in the air. I’ve really found the last 28 years of being a school governor fulfilling, though every successive government has been a challenge to work with at times (diplomacy still reigns) but it’s time to stop. And then my time will be my own (and Tim’s) to a greater extent than any other period of my life, I should think.