Just as my Cunard cold started to wane, Martyn was hit by a gut bug that is taking its time to clear up. Hard to tell how he acquired it: the fact that I didn’t would rule out food poisoning. Oh well, these things take their course, so we’ll need to be patient. Perversely, the extra journeys up and down stairs will have done me good.
The main source of colour in the garden at the moment is the scattering of primulas. Some have been in for years, and others, more recently planted, are catching up well. The bulbs are beginning to poke through the surface, so it won’t be too long before we have a good display again. But I am aching for the longer days. I should be grateful that the grass doesn’t need cutting and that the watering is limited. But by and large I’d rather hibernate.
