The garden of stone

Thursdays are busy now. I didn't get up till 9, which meant I did not have long to pack my stall goods, have a breakfast, have a bath, and so on, before heading off down to the High street and over into the next valley to collect the double buggy. I then wheeled the buggy up the extremely steep hill to the playgroup, where I picked up the twin boys and took them to their home.

The afternoon passed, not in a flash because the little guys were tired and a bit cranky, and I then headed uphill again to my own home, passing the Stone Garden on the way. I think it's a kind of memorial garden. Back home I had a cuppa and started the prep for tonight's supper, before we had to load the car for the market. Unfortunately the Skoda's battery was flat. We stuffed everything into Margaret, the little car, and drove down, fretting about the need for a new battery.

I set up the stall, but have mysteriously lost all my sympathy cards and some of the weddings, too. Walked home up the hill again, cooked supper (roasted asparagus with goats cheese and walnut, zucchini and carrot fritata), washed up, had a long text chat with K, (one of my sisters), and then realised that I had not put on a load of washing this morning. It's in the machine now. At least I have fritata and roasted walnuts for lunch tomorrow at the market. I'm getting terribly bored of sandwiches and wraps.