Thursday, May 19, 2022

Tomatoes, foxgloves and thunderstorm.

1. I am almost certain that what I am planting is a lot of watering, nipping and tying in, and then some wavering about whether or not this or that plant is blighted and needs destroying, followed by three cherry-sized tomatoes. But I'll give it a go, nonetheless.

2. Soft grey-green buds on the foxglove spike at the front of the house.

3. During the storm, when the lightning and thunder are simultaneous and the rain is hissing down on the car park below us, I roll over and Nick is there.

As needed, forgotten cake and syrup.

1. I promised myself I wouldn't moan and grumble about it -- but I do. And as if by magic, a very kind friend produces the required blaz...