Steaming

I’m glad I picked the outdoor tomatoes last night. This morning it’s cold and the ground is steaming gently in the morning sunlight.

Jon is fishing near Banchory, thigh deep in the freezing Dee. I collect him from the petrol station by the airport and feed him slow cooked lamb and baked apples. There’s a bottle of Nero d’Avola for good measure. And a nip of Glenkinchie 12.