Sonnyboy lays Beatrix on the floor of the tractor shed after catching her, which he does by dragging a long grass past her so that she can’t resist following it, thus coming within reach of his hands. He strokes her until she purrs. When I hold and caress her it doesn’t have the same result.

Thanks for all your comments, Lorna. If I could borrow your Dave I’d give him free reign in the kitchen.

We had a feed of zucchini one night this week with the inlaws. I’m hoping someone will have more to share, as it was quite a treat. I could eat it fried or steamed every day for a while, given the opportunity.

There was a farmers market in town yesterday and I had every intention of going, until the time came and I was busy with other things. We didn’t get out of the yard till three or four o’clock; too late to pick up locally produced fresh eggs and veggies. Oh well. We did go to town, my boy and I, and after buying “blizzards” (I had a small one and could only eat half) and parking on the shady side of the street to eat them, I went into the hardware store for a gallon of primer (Sonny’s going to paint the doghouse I bought two years ago, unpainted) and a garden hose while he sat in the van and finished his ice cream treat. Mine got thrown in the garbage when he didn’t have the appetite to eat mine as well as his own, and he thought it was terrible of me. Why didn’t I eat it all? What a waste.

Better that than treating my body like a garbage can, said I, putting something in it that I do not want or need. I’ve often done that, you know. A soft drink too big while I’m travelling? Before they had screw-back-on lids, I would have gulped it all back rather than discard it. A chocolate bar half-eaten has satisfied my urge? I’d eat the whole thing rather than wrap it up for later.

Live and learn, my young darling, live and learn.