Tony Grist (poliphilo) wrote,
Tony Grist
poliphilo

Bucolics

I could hear rain. I lay in bed and thought "at last". Then I got up, drew the curtains and saw that what I'd been hearing was the overflow pipe outside our window discharging onto the stone-flagged patio. The heatwave continues.

Ailz goes to bed at six. My mother goes to bed at nine. Yesterday evening, after I'd seen my mother to her room, I went out and picked cherries in the twilight. The tree is twenty to thirty feet high and the birds get most of the crop. They're very small cherries but perfectly nice. Cherries are a Kentish speciality. You see people selling them from roadside stalls.
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