Nest

Immediately outside the truck door is an area for storing coats, gumboots, dog leads etc. It is also the location of a piece of driftwood art which my predecessors at Chez Mima were kind enough to leave behind.

This year, for the first time, it has become a very tatty and insubstantial sparrows' nest.

Even when Bean and I are in the truck with the door open, a sparrow flits in and out of the hole with bits of grass and moss. Then another sparrow comes along and biffs them out again. As a result there is a pile of the garden gathering around my gumboots beneath the proto-nest. 

Where this little drama will end I'm not sure, but I'm enjoying the show.

This morning I worked in G's garden, planting annuals and pricking out seedlings. Sadly she wasn't there, so there was no stream of consciousness chat. But it did mean I got heaps done, because I wasn't waving my arms around, nor watching G do likewise.

This afternoon I had the choice of what I ought to do and what I wanted to do. 

Being unusually susceptible to procrastination today, I decided not to spend two hours filling in complicated online forms to get me on the government payroll for NCEA exam supervision in November. Instead I wrote a lengthy email describing the week Chez Mima.

It was the right choice. The long email will entertain many people. The forms can wait: nobody would look at them over the weekend in any case. 

Yes, we had a walk. Yes, Bean chased the hares.