Frosted

A day house cleaning, grass strimming and plant planting. And an evening painting rose petals and listening to funny stuff.

I seem to have cemented my mutual appreciation society with the garden centre plant expert lady (who loves that I call plants by their Latin names - though I don't admit that it's just inability to remember French names) by asking for advice on plants to shade my clematis roots. It was like no-one had ever had such a fabulous idea. I didn't like to tell her that Monty Don told me to do it.

Tomorrow is sleepover day for TallGirl's birthday. Mr B has sensibly arranged a tortuously long journey home from Amsterdam and so will miss the worst.