...the Darling Buds of May
Every walk these days seems to take us through the allotment. Dad is worried about a rather tall stand of broad beans (Yerk! Meggie likes to eat them raw, and sits down at the feet of anyone stripping them from their pods, hoping that the fingers will be less than dexterous and the odd bean will ping out of the basin and onto the floor.). He is amazed that they have got this far without being smashed down by wind and rain. They are October plantings, so they're coming ready and "we" have had the first crop off them. Rain on it's own they can take, and wind on it's own, but if they're heavy with rain and get hit by wind, Dad ends up fighting to stand them back up with canes and string, rescuing pods from the mud. We don't mind going that way - it's a nice walk
The 2CV is sick, so we must have a visit from 2CV-Llew (The Doctor). The fuel pump is kaput. Llew has a superb long-haired Jack Russell called Rosie, whose crowning glory is a great quiff of spirally hair on the top of her head.
Dad comes back once more, smelling of Hugo the Dane. We believe he has been consorting with Hugo's family (especially as Dad came home also smelling of Battenberg cake and M+M flavoured American cookies). You'll get fat and spotty, Dad
Mum is buried in her studies, armed with a nice glass of merlot. I am harrassing the cats on the spare bed.
Deefs
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