Where do the days go?

Well, many of them in the company of good friends.  We had a delightful relaxed lunch with Celia and Andy at their place, where they are suffering the trials we had here some years ago: a huge building site is being developed just down the road from them, and  they have a steady stream of concrete trucks, and the constant drone of a largely ineffective street sweeper.  Their garden, though, is looking terrific, and is visited by dozens of colourful birds.  We need to review our feeder policy: we see lots of wood pigeons.  And that's about it.

Next outing was to the Rayner Bank Holiday bash at Faversham.  Filthy weather, as is traditional for said holiday, but good and entertaining company.  Martyn had made his legendary lemon drizzle cake (gin-free, despite my goading), and I'd knocked out a batch of naans.  And the next weekend it was back over to Norf Kent for Marion's birthday party, hosted in Walderslade by Derry.  Small wonder that the Cunard kilos are taking their time to dissipate.

Martyn has been working hard in the garden.  To the right of the steps between levels was a bed that had been overgrown by a hypericum and wild strawberries.  He has cleared it out, laid a membrane and furnished it with rocks and a few bags of decent soil.  He has planted a batch of alpines and one of the box cuttings that I rooted a couple of years ago.  Meanwhile, I have taken cuttings of hypericum, cistus pulverulens and five colours of penstemons, so we ought, if we can get them through the winter, to be able to replace some of the leggy parent plants.  I dead-headed the rudbeckias yesterday, and found lots of seed in the bucket when I'd finished.  I'd already bought some commercial seed for next year, so we can maybe run a comparative test next spring!

Our home facelift continues.  We're very happy with the redecoration, and now that we have the new bedroom carpet down and the furniture back in place, we are feeling happier with our surroundings.  The last of the Miserable Magnolia has gone, as have the putty coloured wardrobe doors and the porridge coloured carpet.  Cream, white and Welsh slate grey look a damn' sight better.  I just need to bestir myself to get the paintings back on the walls.

Meanwhile, the cold lingers on.  I have now cancelled a sitting at the hobby, and slots at two U3A events, and am getting a bit fed up with it.  Still, I have a bit more energy now, so the grass is cut, at least.  Without apologies, I repeat the late and much lamented Isla's dictum: it's a bugger, gettin' auld.