Easter Monday
Nothing exciting on Easter Monday, but the sunshine was very welcome.
I fitted in a lot of writing and enjoyed a satisfactory day. My daughter's 13 year-old son very kindly came round to help me to finish clearing a garden shed in which son number two had stored a lot of junk, some of it too heavy for me to shift. By now, the rubbish, which included ancient tins of paint, rusted tools etc., etc., filled about ten dustbins. My grandson insisting on sweeping away all the cobwebs and the floor while muttering, 'disgusting,' at regular intervals.
After my grandson left, I moved a pot of lilies, which will be scarlet when they flower, to the front garden and then planted a rose bush, which will have red blooms, and some polyanthas at the front of the border. I then picked curly kale from the garden and made colcannon topped with grated mature cheddar cheese for lunch.
Labels: Colcannon, Easter Monday, garden shed, Grandson, Lilies, Rosemary Morris Historical Novelist, Roses, Rubbish, writing
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