My copper tape still hasn't come, my tomatoes are decimated, one entire pot of violas has been chomped and not nearly enough slugs have met an alcoholic doom. Bring on the hedgehogs! Where are they when you need them? I haven't seen any yet this year. Last year, a large adult hedgepig was killed on the road outside our house. Mr G's house, I mean. There is no 'ours' about it. I was very, very sad.
Tomorrow I take a train to Cornwall and hope the weather is set fair for rock-pooling and generally wallowing around like an old hippy. I'm staying in a B&B (£40 a night - eek!) as I crave my own space and the chance to watch telly in bed, which I can't do at home. It also means that if my stomach is bad, which it is today, as I've clocked up 7 trips to the loo, I have somewhere to retreat to without inconveniencing my friends. I could even do another thing I can never do at home and have an afternoon nap.
So, it's 'bye from me till next week, when I shall let you know if my friend has mastered her new recording machine and I have laid down any tracks of my songs, which is something I've wanted to do for years. Now, where did I put my anti-sea-urchin-and-weaver-fish beach shoes? Or any beach shoes, come to that? And as for a swimsuit... The Atlantic? In May? Forget it!
The Winner of Plots and Plotting is....
2 weeks ago