Maundy Thursday

Trying to get Lola to wait an extra hour, after we came downstairs at 6, for breakfast... She's crawling the walls and me. Now at 06:55 she's just licked her bowl clean! I am getting her nearer to 7. She can tell you exactly when she is to be fed: she's showing some unusual body language: sitting up and almost pondering my change of behaviour.

Now she's back by my side on the sofa, after I'd listened to the In Our Time podcast - which I feel has just gone a little stale, or scraping the bottom of a barrel for subject matter - with still a quizzical expression on her face: such a beautiful face. It's kind of triangular and very symmetrical. It's one which has become fixed in my mind in a manner akin to mother and child (but I don't know who is the child between us).

She's just sighed, as the food hits her empty belly, and returned to Snoozeland for an hour until we go on another traipse. 

This weekend is meant to be a heatwave - 22°C - so I am going to risk the three mature tomatoes by putting them into the space by the fencing in the allotment. One has blossom on it already...