This morning the first frost of the year visited the back garden ;I could feel it under my feet as I went to fetch my bike. Now I’m traveling through a mist-hung, pink-tinged morning on the way to work. It really is quite stunning, despite my trite and clichéd description.
It’s been an excellent weekend, with a lot of stuff done with a minimum of stress. We painted the inside of the understairs area; took the door off the washer/dryer cupboard and painted that (three coats of heavy, black, tar-like paint which will turn it into a magnetic blackboard. Hm, I don’t mean magnetic, I mean attractive to magnets), and sanded down the inside of the front door, removing that awful maroon stain.
I got out in the garden with the girls. Took down the beans, cleared leaves, tied back the crysanthemums, dug over some beds. On Sunday, I got over to the allotment, cleared some of the top end and finished pulling the tall weeds. Will I double-dig? We shall see.
We got out on the bikes briefly on Saturday, but only to pop down to Mill Road to do some washing in the laundrette; then back home for a quick pasta before Isa went off to the cinema with Ally to watch the new Mike Leigh film. She came back all sentimental, so it must be good.