dog jumped into deep water at Kirkstall Abbey. Couldn’t get back onto bank and was struggling. Heroically fell in to help her. Stressful!
@johnleach 5:12 PM Jun 27th via web
They quickly got over it though.
dog jumped into deep water at Kirkstall Abbey. Couldn’t get back onto bank and was struggling. Heroically fell in to help her. Stressful!
@johnleach 5:12 PM Jun 27th via web
They quickly got over it though.
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.
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.
1. I’m too hot but the room is cool. The air tickles my skin and I feel equilibrium returning.
2. Boron follows me into the bathroom and I ask him if there is anything he needs – there is food, water and he’s just had some milk. He rubs at my legs to say he just wants a bit of love. I take him back out to the sunny window seat and he purrs and purrs while I kiss his head and rub his chest.
3. After dinner (the first we’ve eaten inside for nearly a week), I take my book outside. Around me the world slowly gets cooler and suddenly all the birds start singing their pre-dusk songs. The cat on my knee and the dog by my side watch with tails wagging as the woodpigeons divebomb past us as they gather together for the night.
1. The barely-warm water hits my closed eye lids as I turn and suddenly I have a strong desire to go swimming again. I wonder if the pool around the corner is open again yet (I’ve just checked – it is) but I also want to go swimming outside. When I’m dry and dressed, I rush downstairs to tell John my brilliant day-trip idea.
2. I need more low planters for growing more salad leaves and it occurs to me I could make some – there is more than enough suitable scrap wood in our woodstore and I feel emboldened after my success making a wellie stand out of other scrap wood yesterday. Within half an hour, I have two foot-square planters, ready to be filled with soil and seeds.
3. We make “jazzberry” hands while admiring Katherine & John’s hard work in their spare room.
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