Hmmmmm.....
all seems intact and amazingly OK. I may just have got away with it, switching to water at midnight maybe wasn't a bad idea after all. KP on the other hand was snoring well, and likely to be for some time.
So, feeling ridiculously and smugly fresh, I went downstairs, made a cup of tea and read up on what to do with all my cherries. Cherry jam became the plan for the day.
But it didn't happen. I went back to bed, went back to sleep till 11am, smugly fresh all gone, serves me right for gloating.
A quiet day was definitely in order. A day crashed in front of some trashy film with the Sunday papers would have been lovely. Plenty of trashy films here (all in dubbed Italian - hilarious) but no Sunday Times, so instead we chose to go chomping over the hills in search of broad beans for tea. As you do.
My ponderings as to the wisdom of this idea were soon dispelled. It was absolute heaven. Every day more and more wild flowers and butterflies appear. If only you could capture a smell in a photograph.
When we finally reached the peas and beans gone wild field the broad beans were still, sadly, far too small for picking. Another two weeks and they'll be perfect, the peas another four.
Having come all this way with rather delicate constitutions it seemed such a shame to return empty handed, and these baby beans were so deliciously and temptingly sweet. So a rather pleasant half an hour was spent amongst the peas, beans, poppies and wheat picking the pods that held the most hope.
By the time we got back with our bag of beans we were more than ready to flop for the rest of the day.
The sofa was calling, as was a supper of comfort food. The baby beans forgotten, an evening with our last emergency ration of UK Lloyd Grossman Chicken Madras suddenly seemed like a very good idea.
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