Midsummer Madness

I don't know quite where the days have gone.
Just odd moments linger.
There are memories or rain and, happily, quite a few of sunshine.
I picked a hat full of flowers to press for the children's workshop at the market.
They are currently residing in a phone book under a handy 56lb weight that was sitting around.

And I picked raspberries.
Model Dog likes raspberries. She is very good at picking but not so good at sharing. She assures me that she always means to, but then swallows by accident.
Now that the strawberry patch has yielded up the last of its joys, she is delighted to have discovered a new source of delight.
She is not, however, impressed by blackcurrants.

(By the way, that's Frank, Wilbur, Hal, Stan and Alf sitting next to the the raspberries. They have names, the peas in our garden - there are so few of them. Stan was particularly delicious but Alf was a bit past it I thought.)

We had a marvellous pottery workshop at the Market which was great fun. I even made a little bowl.
And we also had a barbecue to celebrate the market's second birthday.
The sun shone, the ribs, bangers and burgers were scrumptious and the birthday cake has taken up permanent residence around my person.

Some friends came for the weekend.
It was lovely to see them - we hadn't seen them for years and years and I'd never even met Kitty, the youngest of the family, but I'm very glad I have now.

Mrs Smith laid a perfect little egg for her breakfast and then we all went for a lovely walk on our favourite beach.

Moreover, Hollywood has come to town. John McDonagh's new film is to be shot in and around the village, and the In-Charge has taken his locations manager hither, thither and yon, looking at possible sites. Even the man himself and his Producer dropped by one morning and cast a beady eye over the house and garden, had a coffee and then beetled off to do important things elsewhere.

And in betwixt and between, we have done a bit of tidying up and passed a few boxes of books and clutter on to the animal charity shop. A few friends came for supper and our new wwoofers have arrived - a lovely couple from Northern California, who have pitched into my current project in the garden with such verve and willingness that I am starting to think of them as the Cavalry - thundering over the horizon just when you need them most.

They are just in time.
It is midsummer madness in the garden and everything is growing like Topsy.
Except my vegetables.
We won't discuss my vegetables.