We are almost on holiday. I have been looking rather dolefully at the swelling buds on 'Tai-haku' and trying to work out what else we are going to miss. Like Prince Charles, leaving our own garden suddenly seems like a terribly bad idea. On the other hand, the gardens in Cornwall will be very nice. Normally we do not go away at this time of year, but I have not had any kind of holiday for eighteen months and could really do with a break .
Since we can't leave the cats and the chickens and my myriad pots unattended for a week, the faithful Mr and Mrs Smith will come to look after them, which has rather focused my attention on cleaning. Obviously we have to clean the house sometimes regardless, but there is nothing like imagining somebody else living in your house to make you realize how much needs doing. There is something about other people's dirt that seems more repellent than one's own.
On which note I must now go and clean the downstairs cloakroom. I had to interupt my labours to go to a garden society committee meeting, although I am very grateful to the Systems Administrator while I was out. The need to clean is more urgent than it would have been otherwise since I have invited a gardening friend back to lunch tomorrow after our garden club outing to the Chatto Gardens. We are going to be taken on a behind-the-scenes tour of their polytunnels, which should be very interesting. Come to think of it, I need to organize the cheque to pay the balance of the cost of the visit before cleaning the cloakroom.