THE TALE OF THE TOOTHBRUSH

It is all my sister's fault - we talked on the telephone yesterday - but first more of the garden.

(She has emailed me having read this blog and denies toothbrush culpability!!!)

So what have I been doing whilst the rain comes again and again.

I cannot mow the grass as it is so wet.

First the old raspberry canes have been

removed and the best of the new ones tied in for next year.

Then they have been pruned at the top - at about six feet or so. A little later in the year they will get a mulch of well-rotted horse manure both to feed them and suppress weeds.

Then I went to the victoria plum tree - only been in for two and a half years and now with some of its branches supported by stakes.

The fruit has been thinned - about sixty per cent removed so the rest can mature without snapping the branch.

I have already eaten one and it was wonderfully juicy.

It is a pleasure just to pick a piece of fruit of our own tree or bush, or pull up a carrot and eat. The flavours are so much stronger and sweeter than supermarket fruit and veg.

And what has this to do with a toothbrush?

Nothing.

My sister asked me what I had got up to whilst R was away for the week. Amongst other things, I set myself the task of cleaning the grout in the travertine floor in the kitchen and utility.

It is a big kitchen.

So I spent a good part of my time, not in the pub, not living it up, not playing golf but on my knees (hard floors, travertine limestone) with an old toothbrush.

Whenever you go away always pack your toothbrush - you never know when it might be useful!