The clematis is out:
The Crocosmia Lucifer is out:
And whatever this is, is out:
And the weeks are busy. So many people want to visit, which is lovely – of course – but even so, when it gets to Friday and nothing is booked in the diary, it feels like wall-to-wall luxury.
I love padding around in my bare feet and pyjamas and not getting cold. I love playing the sax in my pyjamas, taking my breakfast back to bed, getting up late, and then walking down the Monsal Trail with Dave for a coffee at Hassop Station. Yesterday we sat at a table outside, under a blue sky with pretty cirrus clouds and a welcome breeze. It was heavenly. Isn’t this summer fabulous?
Then we came home and I blasted out a few more take-down notices to internet pirates, and played my sax again. I’m working on an attractive new arrangement of Fly me to the Moon, which is hard enough to be a challenge, but not so hard that I curse and want to hurl the music in the bin.
I did do some publishing work – but I took it slow and easy. I am feeling so smug about completing my accounts for my tax return - another annoying job ticked off the list.
At teatime I cycled up the Trail and back, and then in the evening went to the local for a meal with a close friend, and we caught up on the last 6 months of each other’s lives.
A good day.
A very good day.
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