It’s been a weird summer. I seem to have had my eyes shut for much it. The combination of terrible heat, no rain, and builders tearing the house apart has somehow blinded me. As I write the scent of the chemical toilet, the last vestige of the builders, drifts across the garden. I’m trying to open my eyes. It is a beautiful September morning, the best of times on the best of days. I’m sitting by the shed and an old foxglove seed head is casting a shadow on the shed door. It could be the shadow of a fine campanula gently ringing it’s little blue bells.

I haven’t spent time in the garden for weeks, not proper time. That’s what I need. Total immersion!

We had quinces from the allotment with our porridge, and in front of me now is a fabulous great kale plant.

I’m reconnecting.

And we have a new kitchen!