Father’s Day was celebrated in style in the Thompson household. I was given a decorated pebble inscribed ‘My Dad Rocks’. Errol was presented with breakfast in bed delivered by his daughters. I would have received that too had I not got up very early to post yesterday’s blog entry.
Reflecting on yesterday’s performance Jessica and Imogen treated us to a rendering of Gangnam Style dancing to accompany Psy’s recording. This was hilarious and exciting, for the entertainers especially.
Louisa, Imogen and I then began the planned gardening project. This was the creation of a bed along the right hand fence in which to grow flowers and shrubs. Imogen quietly beavered away the whole time. She had a bit of a dig; took on the task of throwing the weeds into the brown wheely waste bin; fed worms to the chickens; and later, did some watering
We had made very good progress before Louisa provided us with a brunch of egg and bacon muffins, after which we completed the preparation. Jackie had not been able to find her gardening gloves so was unable to do the graft, although she served two very useful purposes in giving advice on planting and fulfilling the role of project photographer.
An hydrangea that had not been doing too well, having lost most of its access to the sun to larger foliage, was transplanted to the opposite side of the garden by Louisa and her daughters after Errol had carefully dug it up.
The soil having been prepared to our satisfaction, Jackie, Louisa, and I repaired to Brookfields Garden Centre to buy some plants to fill in some of the gaps. A fuchsia, a choisya, three heuchera, and a cotinus were our choices, and Louisa and the girls lost no time in planting them on our return.
Early in the afternoon Jackie and I made tracks for home, giving Kate, the satnav, one more chance. The route chosen after Errol’s reset was a better one and didn’t involve a diversion to central London. The coming and going of the route on screen continued, and I twice had to divert a demo. So, it looks as if a new one will be required. As we left the car in our parking slot I poked Kate into the glove compartment, saying ‘we’ll leave her there for now in case of emergencies, and if anyone chooses to nick her it serves them right’. Lying on the floor of the boot were Jackie’s gardening gloves. They had obviously fallen out of her bag when we had arrived at Mapperley Top.
Jackie knocked up a tasty Spanish omelette, chips and baked beans for our evening meal.