The indoor run for the tortoises is ready and I brought all three of them indoors today, to see how they got on. It’s large enough that they haven’t noticed each other yet. And it rained this afternoon, so it was good that they weren’t huddled under cover.
It’s been a sociable weekend – to Dunwich on Friday with Charlotte, as I said the other day, then over to spend Saturday evening with Weeza and family. I read the children their bedtime story, and Gus chose a splendid book called Harvey’s Hideout, which had been Weeza or Al’s when they were little. It’s about two muskrats, a brother and sister. He’s a pesky little brother and Muriel is a bossy big sister – it stands the test of time. On Sunday, Roses and Indigo came for lunch and there’s an amusing picture on Facebook, with his fine tshirt, which has an open-mouthed, toothy shark, saying ‘Om nom nom’ whilst I’m standing up close and personal to Indigo – and the shark’s mouth is in line with my face. Indigo is at least 15 inches taller than I am. I’d put it up here, but to download it onto my photo album would mean giving the dreaded FB access to all my pictures. Not that there’s anything amiss about my photos, but – well, I’m reluctant.
It all seems to be bad news around here, in the last couple of days I’ve heard of three lovely people with terminal cancer. It really does put any personal problems into perspective – all of them are younger than I am, one by twenty years.
When Paul the Fish called in this morning, I felt a need for self-indulgence. So I bought lobster. And I didn’t feel like doing anything clever with it, so I simply made some mayonnaise to go with it, which turned out to be so delicious that it was used instead of butter on the runner beans that were the first course.
My mother, every late winter, used to greet the first purple sprouting broccoli with the happy observation “They’re my favourite veg.” Runner beans are mine, I think. Lovely.