Restoring normality

Trying to write this before my backup cuts in and renders everything I do glacially slow ... this turned out to be a day in which we were both busy trying to bring our surroundings back to normality. We didn't quite succeed - the spare bedroom is still a mess of suitcases, sandals in bags, random garments on the bed - but we made a good dent in the tasks that were pushing themselves at us. 

The rose is really a symbol for the fact that we both put in a lot of work in the garden. Himself was out cutting the grass while I was eating breakfast, though there was already a load of washing in the machine waiting to be hung out when there was no more grass in the air. I did various kitchen-based stuff - two loads of washing, stewed some prunes, washed dishes, - then hung out a whole whirligig of clean clothes. It was  a glorious morning after a pale grey start - blue sky, warm sun, a slight breeze.

After lunch (must make a loaf in the morning!) I dealt with the border next to the path from our drive-in to the back door, which while we were away had been invaded by jaggy bits of rosa rugosa at arm level and great clouds of London Pride growing over the path at ankle height. This involved a lot of pruning of the roses - which I think I'd pruned too well and a bit early, so that they all sprouted with abandon when the sun came out  - and the total removal of several plants of the London Pride which had created new satellites actually over the path itself. We even went out to the hardware and garden shop and bought som wire net fence and some stakes so that - somehow - I can make an edging to the path to hold things back. 

I'll let you know ...

After that we gave up and drove down to the Ardyne for a last, perfect walk - just over a mile, very slowly - along the shore road. Extra is from that walk just to show how lovely it was. There was not another soul there - all away having their dinner - and the birds were giving it laldy in the woods round the burn. The water level in the Ardyne burn was the lowest I've ever seen, with the resulting sandbanks where it enters the sea bigger than ever and looking quite unfamiliar.

Choir is finished for the summer break, so we were able to enjoy our pasta at a sensible time. Now we have to start getting our heads in order too ...

But that might prove rather more difficult!