Igor

By Igor

while she’s away

Anniemay’s gone up North to see her two (other) sisters. As I drop her at the station I mention the list of projects I have in mind while she’s away; she smiles (smirks?) - “….and don’t eat too much” rings in my ears as I wave her off. I have a fondness/weakness for profiteroles which are an occasional substitute for her company. Failing that I sometimes have to break the glass to get the emergency Crunchie bar.

The road to the railway station is paved with good intentions. The road back is paved with a bakery and a newsagent.

While the coffee is brewing I wander round the water-logged garden looking for inspiration. The heavy rain of the past couple of days has turned the prospective veggie patch (yesterday’s blip) into a lake. My plans for raised beds may need to be amended; buoyancy aids perhaps? Or a trip to Mexico to see the floating gardens of Xochimilco.

Everything has taken a battering, but I find the buds of an Alpine Aquilegia defying the rain. I try to think of a link to the Shakespeare challenge - the quality of mercy is not strained; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven..… But it’s not going to work. Nor am I at this rate - it’s lunchtime by the time I get through the paper and coffee(s).

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