A busy week. The mornings start with this view from my bed, and a big purry, drooly cuddle with Hamish, who spends the rest of his time behind the wardrobe or out in the garden from dusk onwards. He seems happy here.
The garden will be a Spring project; there's a lot of bare earth, and too many fuschias for my liking. At the end is the linhay, home to many of my empty boxes awaiting freecycling, and a large toad.
On Wednesday the 3 Good Fairies came, and the Lovely Son left.
We worked, then went to Dunster, and ate a large cream tea.
And then they had to go for their evening flight. A brief visit, but a lovely one.
We wept. The dogs moped. Three favourite aunties all at once; they had been in heaven!
All at once, the cats seemed settled enough to be allowed out. After all, how would they learn where they lived if they were kept shut in all the time?
Three of them are there in the garden somewhere.
While someone else did what she does best.
As the week went on, anxiety increased about the whereabouts of the lamb tagine. I toiled through box after box, until, in the furthest corner....
There it was! Along with a sad lettuce, half a cabbage, and a morsel of very malodorous feta cheese. It had all gone in the removals wagon rather than the car because I had left just as the neatly-packed contents of the fridge were discovered - still in the fridge.
The lamb tagine had been tightly wrapped up, so there was no smell.
Just signs of bacterial life....
The days went on, the boxes decreased in height and number.
The lovely neighbours brought fresh eggs and a huge fudgy chocolate cake.
Along with a card and some sweet little gifts.
Lizzie's neighbour Harold, who is about 81, and does woodwork as a hobby, had made me a special holder for artificial flowers.
And a tealight holder.
Flossie found that the kitchen door was just the right height to look in and sigh over how slowly Tosca was eating her dinner before the special labrador dish-polishing was required.
We all became friends with the puppy next door.
His feet are larger than Flossie's.
And he is learning that when a cat says no, she means NO!
He and Flossie steal each other's chews.
And we love him.
In fact, we love pretty much everything just now!