Which end is up


The randomness seemed to persist through the week:  unnatural fogs, erroneous chamaeleon-grouting, a persistent inability to cook anything sensible.

I am temporarily one up on the garden, having got the grass cut in a dry interval, and having luckily failed to spread a dead rat all over the garden with the mower – I missed the camouflaged corpse by a whisker.  (Sorry, couldn’t resist.)

But as I potted up some dwarf beans in hope of a late crop, I felt a certain affinity with the rejects:


sometimes it is difficult to know which end is up.

4 responses »

    • Alas, nothing interesting, only repellent dinners, not up to my usual standard at all. Temperament got into the food, I think. Today’s meal was better, I’m happy to say!

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