1. The red, yellow, pink and white are all tinged with black.
2. I put some Encona (scotch bonnet pepper) sauce in the marinade and while it doesn’t overwhelm, it is definitely there. John runs out for the bus with his last skewer and texts ten minutes later to say his lips are still tingling. Mine are too.
3. A second evening of reading in the garden after dinner of the week. While I read, I listen to Kathryn Williams‘ Little Black Numbers and Bonnie Prince Billy‘s The Letting Go. I fell in love with both albums on a lovely long weekend on Lindisfarne in 2007, which even though I had to work for a few hours each day, was wonderfully relaxing. The albums catapult me back into that state whenever I listen to them – not that I need much help relaxing tonight: a good book, cats and birdsong.
4. As I refill the slug traps, I notice that the dark shiny courgettes will be ready for picking this weekend – I can’t wait!
5. Lily is noticeably absent from the al fresco reading session. I don’t mind as we’re trying to encourage her to not stick to us like glue all the time but eventually I get up to look for her and check she’s ok: she’s stretched out on the dining room floor, looking longingly at the door John left through. She deigns to join me at various points throughout the evening but her heart is elsewhere. She’s fast asleep though when he finally comes home and I have to interrupt her dreams to tell her he’s back – she runs downstairs so fast she nearly falls and circles him again and again before pulling him back up to bed. Lily loves her dad.