We entertain this weekend, prompted by The (house) Neighbours' party. Among our guests are Joscelyn and Dragan, all the way from Islington. Drag ourselves away from 'Now That's What I Call Music 2003' (and a fine pavlova), to take a tour of the allotment, wary of the floods overwhelming central England.
We see rabbits (another of whom our murderous feline Archie will later that night bring home and devour) and our guests see what has been occupying every waking hour and keeping us away from the fleshpots of London.
It was instructive to see the plot at around 9pm, when we have usually drawn the blinds and retired for the evening to read about things other people grew successfully. Mist covers the neighbouring fields, lit by a perfect half-moon.Joscelyn and Dragan were kind, and supportive. Dragan remarks, upon departure some 20 hours later, that the visit had felt like a week. We are inclined to think he meant a good week.
Jim and Beatrice (small one, foreground) also made a most welcome visit, but escaped a tour of the plot.)
Please do feel free to post comments. There's no catch - our audience participation is, unlike the BBC phone-ins, scandal-free.
1 comment:
It was "Now that's what I call music 66". I am shocked at the inaccuracies in this blog. You've all the editorial integrity of the Guardian. Perhaps you should have your own "Corrections and clarifications"?
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