Before the rain ...
I knew the rain was coming; we'd seen enough of the forecast and the weather app and the weather warnings. So when I was putting out the rubbish this morning - a ritual Sunday disposal of last Sunday's papers before any more appear - I tucked my phone into the pocket of my dressing-gown (I know, but there's usually no-one about) and took a couple of photos of the astilbe before it's all bashed down. I think it's because it faces north, under a rather solid wall, that it grows slightly out anyway, and when I last looked I could see the ghostly pale pink practically horizontal over the path. We shall have wet legs every time we go out ... for I'm not cutting it off till it's finished flowering.
The day's been taken up with church, coffee with pal, and domesticity. It's as well it was a dreich afternoon, as we have friends coming to stay tomorrow. I made a cake and a bed. I fought single-handedly with a double duvet cover of the French design, with the opening at the foot in a kind of elongated funnel that is narrower than the duvet. I imagine it's so's you can tuck it in an make a tidy end to the bed, but it's the devil to squash the duvet in through.
And now I've just been watching Alan Yentob's programme "Imagine" about the amazing Judith Kerr, creator of Mog the Forgetful Cat. She must've been about 90 when she was filmed, and though her lucidity and ability to draw shone throughout the programme, what struck me most was that she was upright and brisk and walked like a much younger woman. And she wore denim jeans.