Every day is just like Sunday

A picture of Bagheera during the trip over, he looks grumpy and that's how I feel.

The weather this afternoon has been surprisingly, given the forecast, pleasant. Dry and warm but overcast and with some gusty winds that have whipped up a constant background roll of murmurous thunder.

So I've been outside, doing stuff. I've planted the oca and the ulluco, I've planned where to put the heritage Dwarf Red Kidney beans and a row of mange tout and I've been moving various perennials from a bed that has become overly weedy and out of control to the newly cleared land in the vegetable plot.

I found four Babington leeks, loads of Jerusalem artichokes, a good sized clump of Good King Henry which I divided to make two plants and plenty of comfrey, rhubarb and lovage. Even the cardoon seems to be making growth.

But I broke a spade, not a good one to be sure but the first tool I bought for gardening when I got here two years ago, I've lost the little planting trowel and I can't find the secateurs. Those last two items are similar enough that they might both be nestling in the same safe place that I found for them last autumn but they might just as easily been overlooked at some point during the winter close down and be buried under a pile of weeds and brambles somewhere rusted beyond all hope.

And the growling weather is making me nervous.