Whoops, a mistake with my penfriend’s birthday which is today, not yesterday. All I can say is that the days all blur together: which accounts for why I had 2 Thursdays in one week. And I am told that Bank Holiday weekend approaches. Well well, you could have fooled me. It just means that it will rain, which when I look at the desert passing as my garden, would be no bad thing.
I managed a walk this morning before it became too warm. Two and a half miles today. Across the fields towards Woodmansterne, it is amazingly pretty and rural, and still Greater London. I met a couple of dog walkers, and a man out with his 2 small daughters, otherwise no-one. There seem to be a few more planes in the sky but generally we are seeing far fewer vapour trails. Covid 19 is achieving what Greta Thunberg never did, how ironical.
I tackled some weeds on the vegetable patch. How is it that they still manage to keep going when the proper plants struggle? And how do you define a weed? Some are very pretty: buttercups, speedwell, scarlet pimpernel and the like. I have just checked it out: it is described as “a weed is a plant in the wrong place.” So now you know: you are not weeding but rearranging plants into desirables and undesirables. Much like human existence I suppose.
The earrings are large silver discs, made by my friend the silversmith who I mentioned yesterday. They are in fact quite heavy which is probably why they have sunk to the bottom of the box and why I rarely wear them. But they are very pretty with an etched design on them and I should wear them more often, on special occasions, but I am a bit short on those at the moment.
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