Home making in Gala

It was the afternoon of my eighty-first birthday, and I was in bed with my catamite when Ali announced that the archbishop had come to see me.

Nick cooks us bacon, eggs, and black pudding for breakfast. Coffee propels us out the door and back home.

I fiddle with bees. It looks like we may get a few jars of honey this year. I'm going to start varroa action early and feed them up from mid August. The top bar hive is looking really healthy too.

I head over to Gala early evening to see if I can dig up Ali. He's at home, in reasonable fettle and the flat is looking promising. New carpet, fresh paint, boxes piled everywhere. The washing machine needs plumbed in and he still needs a cooker. There's a great view from the balcony.

On the way home, I speak to Megan. It's her aerodynamics resit tomorrow. Good luck!