It feels as though we should be having siestas; and it is supposed to stay hot, or even hotter, until the weekend.
The garden is looking faded, apart from a few valiant efforts from the rose near the house. The colour appears far more saturated through my glasses, which have reaction tinted lenses.
From this end of the garden, the ornamental grass (no idea what it is called, but it is one of the best things in the garden) catches the light. The feathery ends have filled out over the last couple of weeks from delicate filaments to these brush-like fronds. I would like to get another to go in the border, but closer to the house.
In the very darkest patch of shade beyond the end of the border is the apple tree, where Himself is sitting reading. I could be there too; the wi-fi reaches that far, but - effort. Walking. Heat.
Here is good.
I am nursing a sightly sore sit-upon; crouching down to write 'MILK' on the upturned bucket by the front door in readiness for the imminent changes to the milk delivery schedule and possibly even a new milkman, I lost my balance and ended up ignominiously on my bottom lying on the driveway. I don't thin I have actually bruised anything and fortunately (in this circumstance at least) my posterior is pretty well padded. So I rolled myself back up and completed the task. At least I know what to draw for today!
We had an excellent light lunch of roast chicken etc, including a glass or so of white wine. This could well be the explanation for my unplanned gymnastics...
The brick is bolted to the bucket to weight it down and act as a convenient handle. We have an on-going problem with urban foxes, and some people further down the road actually feed the brutes ('oh, but they are so cute and we love animals'). Say that to people who keep chickens, if you dare.
Our lunches yesterday and today have been more splendid than usual, not because of the menu, but because we have cleared the table.
Well, half the table;
It is very pleasant to sit up and face each other, maybe even converse.
The reason is because the piano tuner came on Tuesday. It is just about three years since he last came. I am so lucky that my piano - a wedding present nearly 45 years ago - stays in tune so well. I was just about ready to go to twice-yearly tuning when Covid struck. The piano was beginning to become unplayable to my ear; there was a definite wow-wow-wow going on in some chords, so I was grateful to get this done.
But, oh, the trauma of excavating it from several years of accumulated paper, notebooks, penpots, music heaps! And the assorted bags of knitting and sewing stuff! And the horrific amount of dust and cobwebs to be cleared out!
Still, we got there;
and I am determined to be very considering about what goes back;
I can't get too carried away with re-filling the space as he is going to return (when?) to re-glue the two veneers which came unstuck from Middle C and B. Luckily they slid inside the piano when they came off, so he has been able to retrieve them.
I shall try NOT to return to this state of affairs; (the title of the music seems appropriate, perhaps I'll give it a play through)