Scorcher

I'm feeling a bit flimsy in this sudden heat. This morning I trekked into Woodbridge to shop at the one garden centre that claimed to accept National Gardening vouchers, but when I arrived at the checkout desk with all my purcheses they told me they did not. Wandering around Wyevale's concrete concourse with its overpriced shrubs and plants, I felt quite faint under the sun and had to remove a few garments. I'd brought a hat, but that felt too heavy on my head. It was a tad annoying then to have to leave my overpriced purchases (did I mention them?) behind, especially as they were nicer specimens than I had seen at the Walled Garden on Sunday. Never mind. I couldn't face going plant shopping again, not in these temperatures, so I got out the power hose when I got home and started work on the summerhouse terrace. It comes up so clean with the minimum of effort from me, but it is time consuming, and noisy. I had my ear defenders on, but I hope my two neighbours weren't trying to sunbathe in their peaceful gardens.

I decided it was time to leave off Hugo's thick winter tiger pyjamas last night as it was hardly cold, but put him into his spring night suit, aka my old red cashmere polo neck sweater minus polo neck and sleeves. He looked a bit scornful when I popped it over his head, but I told him he'd be glad of it in the early hours, and he curled up in a nice ball on his sofa. Come the morning, and he had stripped it off him and instead pulled the slanket into a cosy nest all around him. "I told you you'd be cold," I said triumphantly as I succumbed to the first mad greeting of the day, dog weaving around my legs trying to lick my face. "You're wearing the tiger PJs tonight." He did that whippet face which could also be described as a withering look, but I decided it was just him being cute and showing the lower whites of his eyes. Irresistible, he is.

I tried to do a bit of hoeing but the ground has sudenly got quite hard, and my shoulders and back are still too tired after the shed spring clean. Instead, between periods on the power hose, I sat on my kneelers feebly stabbing at the earth with my trowel. I think I'll have to soak the beds before I do the job properly. In the end I gave in to the lovey day and got out my umbrella, recliner and the crossword. It's what hot weather was designed for.