Taking the Medicine

Latest shot from upstairs

I woke up with a sore throat this morning, and my head is hurting. Damn and blast! I've been taking aspirin and fresh lemon juice with honey and hot water, anything to stop the bug developing. I don't want to go there again, not in the middle of summer. Please spare me this time and I'll never transgress in any way again, not even if it means resisting the temptations I never resist. And I'll keep the house clean. And the car.

My house from across a golden barley field, camera zoom on

Hugo exploring the newly-mown track

Later, the track now widened

Close-up of barley, so beautiful

The start of our walk

I've got a busy weekend coming up, friends for tea on Saturday and more friends for bridge lunch and tea on Sunday. I'm not going to think about possible disruptions to plans, and instead will tackle the Olympus, no the Everest of ironing that has mounted up as I've spent all my time in the garden. Several loads of bedding are tumbling over the edge of the basket, but I'll dispatch them while I watch The Dressmaker, a DVD on loan from a friend. It's the only way to iron, with visual and aural distractions. And of course there's the tennis. If rain hasn't stopped play. I have to go now. A soulful looking whippet has just appeared beside me and given my arm a mighty shove with his conk. He's hungry and he would like his supper now please. At teatime. No sense of decorum. Just like me.