Awake and up all night

Did anyone else have a huge thunderstorm last night? I have never heard or seen anything like it. xx

It was interesting sometimes how socio economics correlated to names. So names like Molly, Eliza, Albert, Noah and Alfie seemed names given by parents who had a bit more money.

Now Kez. You know I missed the storm and you're just rubbing salt into the wound.

 Champagne - so funny xxx

Concrete, with a few plastic weeds in pots to remind you of the triffids you've avoided. I'm not a keen gardener either but like the appearance and scents of flowers. Violets are my favourite. Their blooming phase is all too brief. Just daisies, white clover, buttercups and a few scarlet pimpernels blooming on the back lawn at the moment. The front is a sea of dandelions which spring up between weekly mowings. xxx

Not even a trace. The 40% chance of a shower did not hit us either (Northants). Disappointing. xx

Good luck at the dentist. x

Afternoon Ray  

Your garden sounds lovely 

When I was a nipper we had 3 acres of land and the fields used to be a sea of clover, buttercups, daisies and lots of other flowers I can't remember the names of. My sister, me and our cousin would spend hours, eating picnics, making daisy chains and just being happy with life. We didn't even mind when it was sweltering hot. Halcyon days.

Back to the present. Concrete and plastic plants would be the answer to my gardening aversion and also easier on the creaking joints. And it's still stinking hot! Everything being better in the olden days is not a figment of my imagination, I'll have you know.

I can't remember if paprika crisps were about when I was last in Austria but it's likely they were - there was a lot of the real McCoy in my auntie's kitchen, though.

I hope you're coping ok today, sweetie xxx

Of course the olden days were better! As I drove to Tesco this morning in my air  conditioned car, parked, and walked into the chilly air conditioned supermarket, your comment just now made me think back to how it would have been. Bundled into Dad's first car, a 1933 Austin 7, windscreen open to gulp doses of fresh air tainted by oil fumes and insects which could not avoid us hurtling along at 30mph to the local village grocers, a walk to the nearby butcher, then sometimes braving the rancid pong of the fishmongers, a quick call at the sweetshop for some aniseed balls and return home with shopping baskets wedged between me and my brother (no boot). Wonderful memories. xxx   

I will take that as banter, (hopefully). I didn’t mean to upset you. x