It is a languid grey sort of day, the heat of the past few weeks has been replaced by a slow drizzling rain. It is still warm enough for the windows to be open and every now and then a breeze sends the gentle smell of old fashioned roses drifting from the vase on the mantlepiece. I've put the houseplants out on the steps for a bath and even the cat is pleased to be indoors. There are no plans except for finishing a handspun shawl. Only ten rows before cast off but for a triangular shawl, those ten rows go on forever.
It wasn't like this last week - last week was a frenzy of visiting and watching and joining in. I took the first and probably last steps into light entertainment, taking part in this very silly dance. You can see me some rows from the front resplendent in bright orange with a pale green hat.
The garden is growing and thankfully, the birds are growing up. All we have to do now is wait and see if there is a second brood for us to worry about.*
* we have to worry - the chick in the middle of Archie's very clever feeding station is definately a young-un. More cat placating required.