Summer

We have had a glorious return of summer. One evening we sat out with visitors until 10.30 pm, like being in the South of France.
It was a bit warm for walking but I want to make the most of my limbs. An older friend warned me: 'don't wait until you're seventy, because by then you might not be able to walk'. It's still surprisingly hard to down tools (garden forks and dusters) and not feel guilty as you step out, but I'm practising.
I said that when we moved here, I felt as if I had asked for a sweet and been given a whole sweetie shop. I felt overwhelmed and not a little greedy, but now I want to make sure I sample every last lollipop.