It's been both a busy week and a quiet one. Running, gardening, running again and then sleeping, sleeping and more sleeping. Sleeping of the swoon-on-the-sofa-like-an-Austen-heroine sort, pale and wan and breathless and frankly quite useless.
"You're anaemic," stated my former haematologist mother, so appropriate steps were taken and I'm feeling better now.
The lower lawn, sown a few weeks ago, had its first cut. It's still a bit patchy, but I'm a very proud lawn-mother. The upper lawn is now a year old and is coming along nicely.
Unusually the strawberries have ripened, including this variety which runs wild in the garden. It is fully ripe when pale pink with pink seeds and has a tangy sweet old-fashioned flavour. I can sit at the table and reach forwards to pick handfuls of these at my feet. Bliss.
The potatoes are flowering too. This is Charlotte who is, I think, a second early. She's not really quite ready for eating yet, but we still dug up a few for Sunday's dinner which were delicious with beef and Yorkshire puds. She has the most ravishing and exotic flowers for a humble potato and gorgeous lush foliage.
R6 has a new passion: All things creepy and crawly. Most of the weekend was spent in pursuit of bugs. Her favourite was this little chap, a green leaf weevil. We let him go in the evening and R6 duly recaptured him the following morning. I fear Brian now has the excuse he was hoping for to renew his acquaintance with stick insects...