My sturdy antirrhinums are staying outside tonight in a sheltered position - the weatherman says there will not be a frost - so I shall trust him. My garden man has just been and mown my lawns and I must say they are looking better for the feed he gave them a couple of weeks ago. All they need now is a good rain. But as all gardeners know only too well - the weather is never right; either we need rain or there is too much rain. One thing is for sure - however dry the soil gets I really can no longer water it. The task is beyond me.
I have just had my tea - two lovely brown eggs lightly boiled and eaten with brown bread and butter. They were delicious. I don't have them very often and whenever I do I always think I must have them every week.
Nothing much is happening to write about at the moment as we are all still social distancing. It is now seven weeks since I went out other than just into town to give my little car a run. And really it has become a habit to stay in and I think it will be rather difficult to get into the habit of going out to lunch again once it becomes possible. And because there is so little to do (or so little that one can be bothered to do morelike) I think that on the whole I have eaten better than when I was going out for meals. I have certainly eaten more vegetables and salads and what is more I have varied them so that every week I have had a variety of colours in them - the red of tomatoes the orange of carrots, the white of onions and celery, the red, orange and green of peppers, the green of courgettes, the white of cauliflower, and all the varied greens of lettuce, broccoli, sprouts, green beans and peas
Today I intended to make a ratatouille but ran out of time because of a couple of long telephone calls so instead I cubed a courgette, a red pepper, a couple of sticks of celery, a red onion, two tomatoes and six rather sad tips of asparagus and made a quick version in a saucepan with a dash of sesame oil and a knob of butter to start them off. Three rashers of streaky bacon quickly fried, broken up and scattered through at the end, plenty of seasoning - and it was delicious. And enough left for tomorrow with a jacket potato.
All the time I have been typing this 'my' blackbird has been singing his beak off. What joy he has given me in this trying Spring.