I've dragged myself through this week - the cumulative events of this month have had their cumulative effect... I feel as though
I'm following the www.futurelearn course 'How to read a novel' (there's a lot more to reading a book than just starting at Chapter One and carrying on until the end, it seems!) - last week's topic was on the different types of narrator, and 'unreliable narrators' in particular; perhaps I shouldn't have opened the discussion by asking of John could be considered an 'unreliable narrator'...
What has kept me going, as I plodded home, staggering under the weight of my back pack, after a day of teaching at the local primary school, like the Ploughman who
I need to check the weeping willow next time I tootle past; but I can't give as much attention to the verges as I used to, now that I am driving the Panda instead of the Alfa. It is a sweet little car, even though I keep thinking that there is a dinette and kitchenette behind me, rather than just a back seat, but it is not as good at driving itself in a straight line as the Alfa was. I've been caught out when trying to get a good look at something interesting, and then finding that the car is taking the opportunity to try and have a look too, instead of following the road.
The amaryllis is growing at a prodigious rate; it was just a bulb two weeks ago.
And these iris bulbs were Very Dormant when I put them in the cupboard at the same time; they have to stay there for ten weeks, poor things.
These little kalanchoe rootlings, planted up before Christmas, look as though they are going to burst into cheerfulness soon too.