Busy

Up earlier than might be normal for me on a Sunday to fold shirts for Mr B and farewell him on his latest Middle Eastern 'adventure'.  Then, to shake off the inevitable melancholy and take advantage of my 'keeper' being away, into the garden to do some work that my shoulder didn't like very much.  (Please no-one tell Mr B that our gardener didn't do all the heavy work...)

So, lots of hammering, drilling, screwing and backfilling, all to the tune of the Guardian gardening podcasts which I've sadly only just discovered as the series finishes, and later some gravel hauling by TallGirl and lavender planting from me.  It does feel good to be planting again - lately garden work has felt a little divorced from the bits I really enjoy.

However, busy as I was today, it is nothing compared to this bee.  For the past week s/he has been carrying the yellow petals from these Spanish Flag flowers into a small hole on the underside of our (metal) outdoor table.  The petals, as you can see, are nearly as big as the bee and - I suppose - are being used to either build a nest for babies, or for him/herself to hibernate in. 

After the garden work broke me,  a much needed long soak in the tub, a decision about sausages, an easy leftovers dinner and a long chat with my Mam.  

Mr B meanwhile could be anywhere.  Fog in Amsterdam changed his journey in a way that had him at one point this afternoon in Paris eating fine cheeses and drinking Chateauneuf du Pape.  Strangely I had no more emails from him after that one.  Ah, the stresses of modern travel!