I've had a lovely relaxing weekend, despite the howling gales for much of it. My friend mkb had a get-together for her parents' friends and relations to celebrate her mother's life, and a lot of them had trouble with ferries and planes (although I don't think anyone was prevented from getting here).
I managed to get some marking done, and some work in the garden, including hauling up Constance Spry (a climbing rose, for the uninitiated) from the ground where the wind had blown her. This involved a complicated process with bungey cords and wire: I tied a bungey cord around her "waist" and pulled her up off the ground, then threaded wires around the corner of the deck and pulled her tighter to the corner each time. She actually looks better now than she did before, because I also took the opportunity to cut out some dead wood, and she's more securely fastened to the deck.
In the process, I discovered a bush-tit nest in the top of the rose, which had been unharmed in the crash. Once I got the rose fixed up, I saw the little birds going to and fro again with stuff in their beaks, so they seem undeterred. I shall have to keep Tabitha away. I think they're probably safe, but it wouldn't surprise me to see her launch herself from the top of the deck into the rose if she gets the chance. I hate keeping her out of the garden, but as soon as I let her out she makes a bee-line for the deck and sits, drooling, under the bird feeder. It hardly seems sporting to invite the birds to come and then let my cat kill them.
Saturday was Robinson's birthday - he's thirteen! Here he is in his birthday portrait.