'The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on' - one of my father's favourite quotations ( from the Rubbaiyat of Omar Khayyam), and one which I recalled when I sat down here at my computer a couple of minutes ago, switched on and wondered what to write about. Like most Saturdays it hasn't exactly been an interesting day. There was of course our ten o'clock Zoom coffee morning - only four of us today instead of the usual six. We always find enough chat to fill the forty minutes - but having been friends for years now that is not difficult.
Sitting at my computer as the Zoom meeting ended I caught sight of something moving in my garden - it was my gardener. He came and mowed my lawns and weeded the small square of evergreen shrubs I have planted just outside the gate. When I saw him he was just assessing how much work there was to do in the back garden - weeding, cutting back plants which have finished flowering, dead heading and feeding my rose, dead heading and feeding my pinks, pruning the viburnum and then painting the handrails which were green at the start of the year but are now white. Throughout the Spring and Summer they have been plagued by small wasps which seem to have been feeding on the green stain. Can anyone explain this to me?
Chatting to my gardener another friend went past and stopped for a ten minute chat (socially distancing of course). Looking through my e mails a friend told me that a mutual friend who lives just down the road from me had lost her dear old cat - sixteen years old and a real companion - who appeared to have been run over by a car and had crawled back into the garden. So my next job was to walk down with Percy to say how sorry I was. There was no-one in so I popped a letter through her letter box.
Afternoon brought two nice long phone calls from friends and early evening my son came round with some bananas for me. He had been speaking to his son who teaches in China, as he does every week. Isn't it wonderful that all these different methods of speaking are available around the world. My grandson has lived and worked in China for four years now and loves his life there.
This evening, as I do every Saturday evening, I watched 'This Farming Life' on BBC Four - my favourite programme as it brings back the many happy memories I have of our years on the farm.
Now that I have written down all that has happened today I see that I have had quite a busy day really. And of course add to that cooking my lunch of a baked potato stuffed with smoked streaky bacon and served with tenderstem broccoli, followed by a baked apple and custard and you will understand that now, at half past nine in the evening I am ready to put my head on the pillow. Sleep well all.