Vunderbar

What an absolutely wonderful day we've had. Have we spoken to anyone all day? No, not a soul. But it's been the sort of hot, still day when being outside is the only place, and working in the garden is the only possible pursuit. I've moved from bed to bed, still on my mammoth task of clearing stones and transporting them to the drive, but also weeding, raking, plotting and scheming. Tomorrow the two areas of trellis will go up, and they should help to provide a framework, a backdrop for my planting. We've picked two huge tupperware pots of plums from the trees at the end of the garden. Many of them were so ripe they fell into the ditch from whence I can't retrieve them without risking life and limb, but we got ourselves a good haul. My assistant, I noticed, ate more than she put in the pot. In fact I didn't see her put any in the pot now I think about it. The freezer is nicely bulging with produce, and some good autumn and winter crumbles and pies will be made for visitors.

I knew I shouldn't have washed the dog at 90 degrees- poor shrunken Sasha

I had to come in in the end before I did my back, neck, hands, elbows and, newly, my knees any permanent damage.The bath beckons. Sasha is asleep on the doormat. We are at peace.