I May Just Sleep and Read

In the gardens at Montacute House, Elizabethan mansion, in Somerset, on Sunday.

 Because I'm tired tonight we have supper on the sofa sitting side by side.  We usually sit at at the table as it's much easier for Robin to eat. I have half an eye on the television while I'm feeding him.

It's a programme called something like Creme de la Creme - a competition for pastry chefs making mega quantities of exquisite, elaborate and dainty French patisseries.

I notice I have no desire whatsoever to try my hand at such amazingly complicated and beautiful miniature cakes. I'm much more inspired by the food on our plates - fat spears of grilled asparagus( Spanish) salty slices of pan seared  Greek Halloumi cheese, bright crisp stems of purple sprouting broccoli, soft poached eggs and  hot buttered seedy rye toast.

It's early for asparagus. I hope the people who have taken over our allotment are enjoying the asparagus we left behind. This afternoon, at the bottom of the garden,  in a big compost bag, I find a giant knobbly root of rhubarb that I dug up last year from the allotment and forgot about. Long pink stems and leaves have started to sprout so I transplant it into a pot temporarily till I think of where it will live in the already full borders. 

I cut the grass but can't really face doing any proper gardening. I'm distracted by the forms I have to fill in for the Mede detailing all Robin's morning and night routines, his likes and dislikes, his risk assessment, behaviour, medication and personal needs etc. But it's all for a good reason. 

 Tomorrow he's going to spend the night there in the care of the two lovely women he knows. Actually 2 days and a night so that I can have some respite.

I've been wondering how to use this precious time - so much I could do. But I may just sleep and read. And not think too much about anything.