I was digging potatoes in my mother's vegetable garden and I dug up a little golden-brown frog.
Or it may have been a toad.
Frogs have webbed feet and toads don't. Or is it the other way round?
Sunday evening I was reading Tarot cards with my daughter. I was happy to find I could still do it- and with a pack I'd never used before. She read for me and I read for her.
On the way home Ailz and I agreed that if the rain stopped (and at first it didn't look as if it would) we'd pull off the M25 and visit Stoke Poges- where Thomas Gray wrote his Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Thomas Gray loved his mother and had himself described on the tomb they share as the only one of her children who "had the misfortune" to outlive her. The brick of the tomb is covered with the scratchings of 18th and 19th century poetry lovers.