Bob came back last week. He had to leave again; the weather was not good enough for him to finish the outdoor work, and apparently it wasn't worth coming back just to finish the inside bits and pieces. He's been waiting for a sunny day to fit our new gate.
It's been warm, sunny, balmy weather for the past week now. We've been in summer clothes and sun hats and I have been obeying my optician who tells me I have middle aged eyes (query: if my eyes continue to age before the rest of me, will they be able to retire early and what implications would that have for the rest of my life?), and wearing sunglasses. We've been eating outside every day, the air is buzzing all around with the sound of many lawnmowers, and the scent of many barbecues. And still there is no Bob - do you think this could possibly be the wrong kind of sun?
Little Fish and I have been digging in his absence; I have been digging up yet more ground alder and replacing it with somewhat nicer plants. She has been taking the exposed ground alder roots and carefully burying them in her own "gigging 'oles". I'm not convinced this is helpful.