The bitey end
This morning it was cooler so I tackled the privet and laurel underneath the lime tree, which meant long trousers and socks, neither of which I’ve worn for weeks, it’s been so warm. It needs some serious weeding too, but the ground is rock hard.
Too much to watch, what with the Tour de France starting, F1 and tennis. Forget football, not interested.
A friend from Northumberland rang this afternoon, returning a call I made to her about three weeks ago, when she said she wasn’t well. Her husband died suddenly at the beginning of April and she’s been struggling with that, on top of which the reason she wasn’t well was because she had appendicitis and has since been in hospital. She’s 83.
I found a few Cinnabar caterpillars nibbling on some plants and decided I’d try and get a close-up of the head. Could do better. I just missed a picture of a wasp doing backstroke in the birdbath before it righted itself and flew off.
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