It is dark and gloomy.
The slugs are creeping out and eating the remaining cauliflowers.
The beer in the traps is old, diluted and needs changing.
But it is pouring down.
This is the summer view from my window at nine-thirty in the morning.
Thunder has just rolled over the fields.
The stream that was dry at the end of June is bubbling away and even the birds are avoiding coming out to the feeders.
I know - the true gardener would be saying - "Git your Wellies and mac on. It's nowt but a bit of watter.
At least I have finished the inside of the Wendy House.
R comes back from Yorkshire tomorrow so I hope she will be pleased.
I am not a skilled handyman - my furniture will last but it is screws, glue and six by two timber.
Trying to get shelves to match end to end and be level when all screws are determined to go in at an absurd angle is impossible.
I have put up some trellis by the decking and bought a bench so R can sit there - presumably in the rain.
I am glad I mowed the lawns yesterday afternoon just before the heavens opened. But then, the rain will make the grass grow
and . . . .
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