I'd been waiting ages for a suitable weather window to to the washing. At last the ensign of the Dhobi Navy flew proudly (well, drooped chilly) at the back of the boat. And so it stayed until dusk, when it came in again hardly dryer than when I hung it out. Oh well, it's drying nicely by the stove.
Sherry Jim called. He wants me to update his flyer, now that Bob, the other half of the Dangerous Brothers, has moved on, and Young Harry is Jim's new oppo.
Presently the sun came out and warmed up the valley, and the squirrels stopped nibbling ash keys and hawthorn berries, and spread themselves languidly along branches.
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