Weeds

I really should have tamed these years ago. From a few seeds scattered around some daffodil bulbs, they have self-seeded their way towards total bottom-of-the garden dominance, taking over most of the path and the first bed in the veg garden, strangling a red currant bush in their relentless march onwards.

Next year I will be the master.

Mr B and TallGirl headed off to sunny Scotland, and CarbBoy headed out with his pals to cycle to the village. I did have a niggling sense of discontent with this last fact and then remembered - he doesn't have a bike. Later, with the borrowed bike returned, he was straight out again to swim at a neighbour's, so I didn't see him until dinner hit the table.

Lots of ploughing through the work (those contracts won't red-line themselves), a little light weeding (too hot), some very strenuous weeding (in the comparative cool of the evening), and a cushion cover that is all wrong and all the needle-breaking stitching (four layers of velvet) will have to be ripped out and redone.

For light relief, CarbBoy and I watched a hilarious movie full of swearing and slapstick. Good for the soul to laugh out loud, I think.