Saturday night it did not rain, although all afternoon Saturday it looked like it would.
By Saturday night I ached. I had worked in the garden, then gone walking in hills with two dogs.
Sunday morning I could barely move.
Out came the lawnmower and I cut the lawn where I had been on my hands and knees cutting the grass with a pair of garden shears.
Two hours hard work.
Monday I did not feel too good when I awoke, and only managed half an hour.
Today I mowed the grass again. It did not need mowing and it would have been better to have left until the next day.
A border cleared and I managed to cut another area of grass. I was determined to complete it as I wish to mow the grass tomorrow. Two hours hard work.
Wednesday night forecast heavy rain, then the next few days back to the cold, wet weather.
Today pleasantly warm.
The cleared bed I will plant sweetcorn. A friend has too many growing and he will give some to me to transplant. The same sweetcorn from Tenerife that I sowed at the beginning of May.
In the evening I decided to enjoy the spoils of my labour: I sat in the garden reading The Fire, the sequel to The Eight.