Getting lost with friends
Today is mostly about getting lost with friends. Mum has printed off some copies of the route in the vain hope that one of my friends will be better at finding where we’re supposed to go than I am. I didn’t end up in the wrong place, so I didn’t do that badly, but I do understand the point she was making. Of the two of us, I’m the one who is supposed to be good at finding my way. And I am, just as long as I’ve been there before. It’s when I am somewhere completely new that I often struggle to read the route properly. Of all of us, Alfie was always the best at finding a route he’d done before. Once was always enough for him to commit it to memory. He used to save Mum from getting lost in hotel corridors regularly.
Mum is definitely wondering why she let Aristotle talk her into planting quite so many roses. They are going round pruning them in batches in between other jobs. They’re still on the easy ones. Mum says she really isn’t looking forward to the old climbing roses as they are going to be a big job. I know they’ll enjoy themselves once they get started, but I can see that it’s a bit daunting. The worrying thing is that some of the work will involve one of them going up a ladder. I’m definitely not going to be watching that bit.
Despite moving several barrow loads of compost yesterday they still haven’t finished filling the vegetable troughs. Mum is starting to think they won’t actually have enough, but they haven’t finished yet. I must say what they are moving tastes pretty good. Mum has tried really hard not to drop on where we can eat it, but there are always some bits that slip off the shovel.