The wind made a real mess of the garden, and the cold made tidying it back up unpleasant. Our landlords came to fix the shower cubicle, which meant that last night we had to sneak hide the rats and hide all trace, then Jenny couldn't clean upstairs because the landlords were both traipsing in and put with shower bits, and they finally finished at 5:30pm, long after she'd gone home. Our kitchen, however, is immaculate. I gave her a present of home-grown rhubarb as ours needs thinning, hers hasn't come up yet and I am too tired to want to make more crumble.
Chicken bones and scraps are simmering in the slow cooker, remnants of yesterday's roast. Tomorrow I will make chicken noodle soup for those who want it. Our smallest houseguest goes home in the morning. I'll miss her, and I will certainly eat less well once she's gone.
The plants are all fine. No new dead ones, and no new appearances. I forgot to mention I have a baaaaaaaaaaaaaby rhubarb which is more or less a 'because I could' sort of thing. I sowed it, it's come up, now I just have to work out where to put it if it lives.
I have a cold.
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