Also, the triffids

[desperance]

I thought my back yard would be a desert when I came home, all dried and shrivelled and dead. But no: quite the opposite. It is a crazed jungle out there, wild with vasty weeds and lovage. (The lovage is my height, more or less, growing out of a two-foot pot; and the weeds are chasing it.)

My bay-tree is dead, alas, and my rosemary has disappeared. I just grabbed some thyme for the stock and scuttled back inside; Mac dithered on the doorstep and decided not to come out at all. That may have been the rain.

I will need to do something radical out there, but I'm not quite sure what. It's all a bit alarming, really.

Also also, wheezing. Much puffery on the inhalers. I may be sick...