Taste of summer...

Another wet and windy day, though I did manage half an hour in the garden, sweeping up leaves in between squalls. 
So it was good to find a box of glistening mulberries in the freezer, a reminder of sunnier times.  We do seem to have had so many grey days!
Richard and I had a quiet time at home, catching up on writing (R) and on photo-editing (me). As I write, I'm babysitting at Ruth and Josh's, while they go out for a meal together. Both boys are in bed. 
It's an odd feeling sometimes, being in their house - since it is the house that my former husband Graham and I bought together in 1982.  It's a source of many happy memories, from the early years with Jack and Ruth.  But it's also the source of much sadder ones; not only of the disintegration of our marriage, but also of Graham's final decade of life with dementia, before his death in 2020.
On balance, I find that the house is different enough now to outlive the more difficult memories. I think that Ruth, Josh, Eben and Luca have made it their own.