Garden centre

To the local garden centre to stock up. It's a far cry from British garden centres with their House Beautiful ornaments, greeting cards, and flash cafes. It's a few tattered polytunnels, (literally) on the wrong side of the tracks, next to the level crossing. Clients are asked to bring boxes to take their purchases away. There isn't even a till, the owner just looks at what you bring to the desk, scribbles the items down on the back of an envelope, manually tots up the amount (no calculator required), and sticks the cash in a drawer. Bet it's no hassle doing the accounts -- just count the money at the end of the day! 

We always go there for plants -- they have all the right stuff and are able to advise on what will grow best in our dry, nutrient-free soil with virtually no attention. This pourprier  is allegedly suitable -- we shall see! Another in extras.

In other news, still trying to shake off the annoying sore throat I've had ever since our UK visit.