Hydrangea

Reeling from the comments of yesterday, but I felt it necessary to cool you down today. There was far too much interest in the locality of my smalls, and even sadder, a greater interest in the style and maker of my peg bag!

It took me back tae the times when a used tae hing o'er the gardin fence and discuss the price o mince wi Jessie. The co-operative was aywis the best place tae buy yer mince. Good and lean, and no too dear.

I though I had joined a photography community, not a WRVS.

It did amuse me that you had been looking to see the colour and size of said smalls. May I add that frankly, when your daughter's smalls are half the size of yours, it is time to stop putting them out on the line. Hers or mine!

Ah, there is nothing finer after a shed load of rain, than to wander the garden watching the flowers recover, their colour beaming out through the magnification of the raindrops. Such a delicate look to their bruised petals. And the smell of the air after the rain is - deep breath in - scrumptous.

But then maybe that's just me, and maybe that is just as sad as your interest in my peg bag.

Thank you, lovely comments, but please, I'm afraid of balloons - is it away yet?