The question on everybody's mind at present is whether it will rain over the Jubilee weekend. Sunday looks nasty at present, but it could all change. I am desperate for rain, to get my garden(s) going again, but I don't want to stand out on the playing field in a downpour waiting for nobody to patronise our Guide stall on Saturday afternoon. If it rains Sunday at least I shall be sheltered in the church, with the tea and cakes, and a few friends to chat with!
A quiet few days punctuated with bursts of energy. Gay has brought me the plants she needs for the wedding flowers in August, and we planted some - the others are waiting to bulk up a bit before going out in the garden. They need to be butch enough to fight off slugs and snails. Aside from this there has been the usual circuits of the table tennis table on Tuesday afternoon, some clambering around the bushes on Wednesday with the rest of the bunting (Christine is flying a large Union Flag from the bus shelter so we are looking very patriotic), lawn mowing, and the Ramblers walk this morning. A chance to catch up with Peter, who is still recovering from his blisters, and getting himself fit to walk to the most westerly point in early July. The new plan involves a train to Fort William, which seems eminently sensible to me. He will go to Dunnet head on foot next May. On his Easterly walk he must have had a pretty nasty time, trudging through the rain, soaked through and cold. We have concluded he is one of Douglas Adam's rain gods - he reckons the weather always turns wet and cold on him when he tries to walk long distance.
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