A novel approach to gardening

I decided to do something very different this weekend. I had a break.

Up to town in the morning to buy loaves of bread (our favourite rye bread, and flute fermente) I was given a religeuse au chocolat by my friend Christine who works in the boulangerie.

She is one of my floral bouquet recipients each week, and every now and then she slips a pastry in my bread order.

Hard life. I never say no.  So this morning I came back with a little parcel of chocolate delight and instantly put the kettle on.  With my cup of tea, chocolate pastry I headed up to the potting shed to hunt out Artur and give him a treat.

The poor cat doesn’t know I’m going to be away for a week. And the thing he loves best is for me to sit still.  So I slipped my current paperback into my pocket and settled into the chaise longue for an unexpected session of leisure.

Artur couldn’t believe his luck. He wasn’t interested in the pastry (thank goodness) but played with the cardboard box for a bit and then settled down for  a serious purring snooze.

I finished my novel and marvelled that I actually put my potting shed to leisurely use.

I won’t describe the cat equivalent of swear words that were uttered by the Elderly One when I closed the book and had to lift him off my lap. But I really had to get on. There was a huge garden out there, requiring attention.