BAY TREES - AND BLACKMAIL - (EVEN MORE THAN BEFORE!)

I’ve been sitting in bed, watching rain.

Watching the bay tree too.

Upright. Still. Doing nothing.

(Either of us.)

Me and the Bay Tree.

(The Bay Tree and me.)

Inactivity should be boring. It isn’t. I’m mesmerised by its greenness; by the golden yellow of new growth.

There’s a snail at the top of the Spanish Broom. I’m companionable with it.

Blue Tits come and go. And sparrows. They’re busy - too busy for Saturday.

For once, I prefer the snail.

* * * * *

The house is silent.

The street is silent.

Even the rain falls without sound.

* * * * *

Earlier, when I went to make tea - I pulled convolvulus away from the currant bushes.

(While I waited for the kettle to boil.)

I was hoping Mrs Rustbridger was seeing me. I’d very much like her to say something nice.

I wish I didn’t.

* * * * *

Three pressed geranium flowers arrived in the post.

(At weekends, just when you’d expect postal workers to sleep in - they deliver the mail before breakfast. Other days, it's not till noon.)

* * * * *

Blackmail works on Plutonians.

Maybe it would work on the Manchester Bookseller?

'Around the World Looking at Yellow Geraniums' shouldn’t cost £5,000, however good it is.

There’s something fishy about all this.

Perhaps I’ll visit her on Monday; see what I can do.

I’ll buy Indian treats from the Wilmslow Road - with real silver on!

I’ll serve them as pudding - on Wednesday - when the chauffeur comes.

* * * * *

SHOPPING LIST

Bread
Milk
Butter
Eggs
Self-raising Flour

For Tomorrow