Yellow flag

A warm day with a hard shower at the end of evening. These days I walk around with a small towel tucked under my belt, like a tail. Hedge cutting and clippings, cutting over the slabbed parking area, cutting down to the first terrace, changing filter on pool and cleaning filter, WD40 on irrigation battery powered timer valves, tying in vines in pergola, using hedge cutter to reduced long grass and take off seed heads, pruning olive trees, watering polytunnel and pots, weeding drive, two loads washing and trip to co-op and a bit of tidying, making myself lunch and tea for J and me. Somehow I clocked up 8km doing all this.

I’ve never seen so much of the golden orioles as this year as they shift between calling perches as, I like to think, I call back at them with my perfected oriole whistle. But still have not seen a hoopoe. The hobby was briefly calling too.

Finished the last of Trollope’s Barsetshire novels on Audible. Timothy West has been a boon companion through long hot gardening hours.