Wednesday 9th August 2023

Hump day.

And the sun came out for a change.

My main task, apart from work, is to carry on with trimming the hedge.

Most houses along our street have hedges separating our back gardens, as they dissipate the winds we get up here near the cliffs.

Good for that and wildlife, but they do need trimming twice a year, and as we had been waiting for Ray the gardener for three weeks to come, I thought I would do some. Monday I did half near the house, so Wednesday did the part up to the shed, as from there to the bottom of the garden really calls for specialist equipment, but after an hour of trimming, sweeping up the clippings and bagging them up, the job was done, and looked OK.

The garden is full of butterflies, and despite me telling everyone that native plants are best, most are to be seen on the buddleia.

I treated myself to a bottle of Tripel sitting on the patio in the shade, and it was from there I saw a small blue butterfly flitting about. So, I grabbed my camera and chased it, catching up with it as it fed on the lower bed, and finding out that it was only our second visit in the garden by a Brown Argus.

Nice.

And dinner was easy enough: Caprese again and just warm up the left over focaccia in the oven, then pour the wine and relax.

There was more cup football on in the evening, Burton v Leicester, but I couldn't get into it so early to bed once again before it was dark, though I was joined soon after by Cleo.