A Faint Reflection

This morning I converted the above post from Classic to Block edit, changing with the normal gallery. Thinking I would still need to change the galleries, the pictures of which have been disappearing, I checked back to mid-May 2014 and found all was OK.

Feeling somewhat relieved I then continued my forward momentum, converting the four following posts and changing some categories to Garden:

We English were known for obsessing about the weather long before the increasingly extreme, wild, terrifying, global fluctuations of recent decades. Our temperate climate is currently suffering less than many from fire, but torrential flooding is becoming more prevalent across UK.

Today the temperature in our gentler area of the country has plummeted to a good 10 degrees Celsius less than it was a few days ago when we had been hoping for rain denied us for weeks. Gloomy rough-hewn slate blocks the sun, and gusts of a stiff breeze toss flora and foliage every which way.

Even the promised rain couldn’t manage much more than a faint reflection in the patio paving.

That is why I spent the morning as I did and the afternoon making a good start on reading Lawrence Durrell’s “Livia”.

Jackie, however, did manage another two metres of the Brick Path weeding and the planting of an urn that Martin had recovered from behind the garden shed yesterday.

We can no longer watch Cricket Test Matches live on Freeview television, so my custom is to avoid radio coverage and turn off BBC TV news when it comes to sport, so that I remain blissfully ignorant of events until the evening transmission of highlights.

Today is the third day of the second Ashes match between England and Australia, so I won’t know until after dinner what happened yesterday once our middle order lashing lemmings launched themselves over the alluring antipodean cliff to squander the optimistic morning. As usual I will refrain from telling you for fear of spoiling your own deferred gratification.

This evening we all dined on a medley of tasty sausages and creamy mash; firm carrots and Brussels sprouts, and meaty gravy with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Lock Keeper’s reserve Shiraz 2022.


  1. The weather does seem extreme everywhere.
    The flower colors really pop though against that grey sky.
    I hope you enjoy the cricket highlights. I know nothing about it. ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. You are very strong minded to be able to avoid taking a peek at the scorecard through the day. I am temperamentally unsuited to watching highlights without knowing how they will turn out.

      1. Ooooh…maybe I’ll get the remote control back then. But then, there is always the football (national rugby league). But I have booked to hold the remote at 8.30pm for a movie about Gloria Steinem.

  3. Love the two photos of the garden ๐Ÿ™‚ We’re still enjoying spring temperatures here in Los Angeles, but our local forecaster predicts high summer temperatures this July Fourth holiday weekend. Just when I thought I would spend some extra time gardening!

  4. The weather certainly has taken a strange and scary turn. Smoke from fires in Canada are affecting about a third of the United States. Luckily, not Maine, but how long can we stay lucky? Hope you get rain soon.

  5. The garden is alive with so many bright colours!
    We went from spring temps to summer temps in a couple of days.
    Love the faint reflection photo!
    Hey, is your spaghetti eating going better (and cleaner) these days!? (Wink-Wink)
    (((HUGS))) โค๏ธ

  6. The Ashes is getting increasingly like a “men v boys” situation, with Engklish tactics based on premisses which cannot hope to be correct, given what has happened in first class cricket the world over for the past 150 years.
    Incidentally, there was rain here in some quantity yesterday evening, but nothing sense.

  7. Torrential rain can be as bed as drought in some ways, Derrick. We are all in this climate mess together, Mother Nature not feeling kindly these days.

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