Yesterday morning I suffered a terrible hangover – thanks to a good evening the night before with my friends Mo, Eyre & Sherbert, down the valley. I woke feeling grim at about quarter part four at which point the sun was nearly up. Groaning, I went back to bed and thankfully slept it all off for another few hours.
I did wonder if I had something a bit unusual the night before, though, when I wandered down later to find a beautiful white duck in the garden. Not what you would normally expect to find in your flowerbed on Sunday morning. It emerged that she was with her drake, and they spent a good hour pottering about. It made me think how nice it would be to have a pair of Indian Runners.
I spent the whole weekend gardening, in between torrential showers. The veg garden is suddenly beginning to produce. First potatoes, lots of artichokes, first broad beans. There is some benefit from all this rain.