With the wild winds whooshing among the quavering trees and trembling shrubs as rowdy raindrops pattered on fallen leaves, a determined
Martin persisted in his task of weeding muddied gravel paths and cutting back plants thriving on our warm, wet, weather, clearly succeeding in replacing the next car load of bags of garden refuse that Jackie and I, driving through an even more waterlogged Christchurch Road, took to the dump after she had enjoyed Ellie playtime during which our great granddaughter
led Granny on a walk,
then read a book and practiced pointing to facial features contained therein.
When not keeping Martin fuelled with teas and coffees, I read more of Priestley.
This evening we all dined on oven fish and chips, mushy peas, pickled onions and gherkins, with which Jackie drank Peroni and I finished the Australian Shiraz.