Self-indulgence

The sky is once more blue. I have nothing much to do. The benefit form is now in the post so all I have to do is wait for their response. The Fox is cooking today. He's making a chicken laska for a change. The only thing I really need to do is decide what I can make with 3oz of roast pork for tomorrow's dinner.

Oh, and feed the birds. The table is pretty bare, but there's enough to keep them going until later on. I thought I'd wait to refill until the washing had dried. The line passes near the bird table & I don't want heavenly gifts landing on my clean clothes.

Needless to say there's plenty to do in the garden. The bog garden is now fully covered with bark. Each day I replace some. I suspect the birds are rootling thoroughly through it, scattering bark everywhere, leaving bare patches of earth for the weeds to grow. The next area I intend to tackle is the rockery. That's become well & truly overgrown. We bought some slate chippings earlier this year which I thought I could put down as I cleared. It would be nice to get a few flowering plants for the area. It's got plenty of evergreens in it, giving it structure, but very few flowers to give it colour.

But at the moment I'm having a break from the garden. Last week I manage to pour boiling water on my hand when I was making up some stock for dinner. Last night the blister popped, the frail upper skin peeling apart to reveal a rather raw, very tender, patch of flesh. I don't want to risk infecting it. And I certainly don't fancy scrubbing it.

Still, as it's a sunny day, maybe I'll just sit out on a chair, a mug of tea beside me, and read. How's that for self-indulgence! That's the sort of thing to do on holiday!