I woke to sunshine and the sound of a car door. Our cottage visitors were packing up to go home. Not a morning for turning over and going back to sleep. They had recovered from the trauma of no water and seemed keen to come back. That's always good. We must be doing something right, even if it is only living where we do.
A gardening day with occasional unenthusiastic forays into the house. I've been weeding and planting cornflower seeds in a dry bed in the kitchen garden. Ian is moving on with the chicken house. Everywhere is full of things to do and not enough time to do them in. Tonight we are going into Manchester for a fundraising do and staying overnight. Tomorrow we are going to some very good friends in Derbyshire for lunch and won't be back home until Monday evening. I am looking forward to seeing our friends but the pull of home and garden is strong. It will require an effort of will to wrench myself away.
This morning's post brought an appointment for my scan: Tuesday when I can't go. I will be in London. Part of me wants to cancel everything and get it over with. Another part wants to carry on as normal and make it fit in with me, not the other way round. I think we will go with part number two.
So it's time to shower and iron something glam, to scrub my fingernails and resign myself to sitting on my hands. This is such a short blog I thought I would indulge myself with some photos of the garden: the irises, some early apple blossom and an old one of the piglet eared daffodils which I am still hoping someone (Milla seemed to know what I meant when I mentioned them a few weeks ago?) might be able to identify for me.
Won't be blogging for a couple of days but look forward to catching up when I get back.