The promised rain lasted all of five minutes and I’m having to water the garden. The broad beans were flagging and – not that I’m watering them – the hedges are starting to look autumnal. It’s June, for goodness sake.
For the last couple of mornings, I’ve woken in the early hours because I’m too hot, and then not slept again. So breakfast has been at 4.30 am. And that’s rather a pleasure, actually. Two tiny bantam eggs on toast, freshly squeezed orange juice and tea, on a tray in bed. And a glass of iced water on the side. Then I’ve listened to the radio for a bit – only downloaded stuff, I can’t listen to the news any more – and another hour’s sleep from about 6 o’clock. It’s worked surprisingly well and I’ve been able to get lots done when I finally get up and don’t have to bother with breakfast again.
This will not suit Tim, mind you, whom I welcomed home enthusiastically at about quarter past twelve today. He’s very good at going back to sleep until the time he chooses to get up, I can only envy him without much hope of emulating his ability. But I hope that, no longer alone, I’ll sleep baby-like. I’ve been up to open the windows and switch the fan on, anyway.
Not sure what’s happened to the evening, it’s nearly 11 o’clock. I’ve been in bed and asleep by this time all week. But I’m quite wide awake now. Must be LT’s stimulating conversation.