The Great Escape

As I jumped into the car today it occurred to me (on readjusting the seat to my liking as, despite having the same length legs, Mr B and I differ on the importance of being able to reach the pedals) that this is the first time I've left the compound for about a week. Maybe more. (We were off to the library - which is something only I can do, turns out.)

It occurred to me then that all the sunflower blips I've been seeing might mean that our sunflowers might be out too. They are a bit, but not at their peak yet. Obviously leaving the house has panicked me into taking a totally rubbish photo: the flowers were much prettier than this and I'm not sure what my iphone has done to the colours.

Hot hot day. Cooler this morning than it has been of late, but still very hot this afternoon. We don't seem to have had the break in the weather that other parts of the region have had - though we had the storms rumbling either side of us yesterday evening. This evening I sorted out a babysitter for my tomato plants while we're away - conveniently a neighbour asked to borrow our trailer tomorrow, so I was able to ask him a favour right back, though he will also be paid in green/runner beans, courgettes and (probably) some tomatoes. Somehow, in showing him the garden, (please do keep in mind that by this point I had already had two of Mr B's cocktails "to use up the cranberry juice" and dinner wine) I ended up describing the Irish potato famine, without knowing the French for famine. Or blight (my gardening book describes it in rather anodyn fashion as 'mildiou' but that doesn't sound serious enough). Probably a mistake to embark on that, but this neighbour speaks a bit of English and is very keen to learn more. He seemed intrigued, but not convinced, by my saying that a fine aged rhubarb wine could taste like Sauternes.... I will have to make some home made wine to convince him (he's training to be a vigneron - could take a lot of convincing....)

Tomorrow morning we are off to Northumberland to celebrate my parents' umpteenth wedding anniversary on Saturday. So there is packing to be done. TallGirl has already filled a whole case with entirely unsuitable clothes and bottles of cosmetics that are too big. CarbBoy meanwhile just said I could pack for him, providing I avoided the striped red pants. Then he was distracted by spotting the book I'd picked up for him in the library - and now says he can't wait to get on the plane so he can read it.

My kids are changing. Right in front of me. I'm guessing that's normal?

(For regular readers, I presented Mr B with two ripe yellow pear tomatoes from the garden as a peace offering - even though I'd clearly done nothing wrong, grumble grumble. He offered me a nibble (of the tomato) and it was rather tasty. All is well.)

Oh, and if you care to click back, there are backblips from the weekend.