A garden is a lovesome thing…

I’m actually writing this at teatime rather than my usual sleepy scramble; we’re going out for dinner in Leith and by the time I’ve eaten and toasted ourselves for surviving 55 years of marriage I may well be fit for nothing. Add to that the walk back to Newhaven…

Another warm, blue sky day encouraged us to pay our annual visit to the Botanics - the big sister of our more usual Benmore Gardens - where we used to go for walks in the early days of our getting together. It was hot; we sat a couple of times and watched - a gardener lovingly tending to a compost heap; three women of a certain age in almost identical cotton dresses talking in identically loud voices - and climbed through the rockery bit and saw the broken remains of the gardens’ tallest tree, felled by Storm Eowyn.

Having missed lunch, we came home for tea and a jammy oatcake ( I know) and some tennis on the telly. I’m hoping the suggested light shower doesn’t show up while we’re walking this evening… I’ll take me brolly just in case. And I may, just may, update this later.

If I’m able …