Freedom is slavery

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. I am resting from my labours in the garden and Claire has interrupted her lesson planning. We walk through the woods, welcoming the passage of spring.

There is an American friend of Nick's sleeping in the bothie. Helen and her mother are making a willow circle in preparation for the hand-fasting. There will be a Beltane celebration which we will probably sleep through.

We find a dog-toothed Erythius down by the pond. Claire is excited, because she has been trying to get this to grow for years. I predict more to come. Johnny arrives and works in Claire's flower garden.

I finally plant the asparagus. And the potatoes. There's room for a few strawberry plants too. So, that's half the tunnel in need of irrigation - and the other half in need of digging.

The evening passes in a smear of car journeys and kitchen preparation and ends with a showing of Small Faces - a very odd Glasgow gang movie.

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