Bursting

Just as we are about to go away for a few days, all the irises are bursting forth. But I'm sure there'll still be blooms left to welcome us home, justifying my decision to leave a whole bed (one quarter of my garden at the moment) to these flowers. Today, between the showers and in some of them too, was another day of planting. I managed to get everything in the ground that had been in pots or trays, so hopefully they will survive even if the forecast rain doesn't show up. And I've added lots of pea sticks over the top of seedlings to keep the cats off...

Katherine had riding all day today, though she was supposed to be stepping up to horses today rather than ponies - which are getting a bit small for her - but the wind apparently made the horses a bit loony so they stuck with the calmer ponies instead. Conor had football training which, owing to the freezing cold drizzle, was poorly attended. This gave him much more attention from the teacher so he did actually seem to be improving.

So now, the bags are (mostly) packed, the fridge is empty and all that remains to do is set all the alarm clocks we can find for the ludicrous time we have to get up in order to get to Spain to fly to London. Nothing is simple round here.

Thanks to Mr B's 'just in time' approach to arrival at the airport there is always an evens chance that we will miss the plane (though he has only actually missed one that I can think of, though he did miss it quite spectacularly - being still in a cab five minutes walk from our flat in south London instead of at Stansted with the rest of us). However, I think tomorrow there is a fairly high chance of plane missing. I'm not sure I've had to get up before 3am ever. Let alone leave the house at that time.

Now you might wonder whether I have any say in this. Well quite frankly I don't. It was established fairly early on in our relationship that Mr B is in charge of travel arrangements* and I am in charge of cake and Yorkshire Puddings, though with Mr B's recent cake exploits I may be down to just the Yorkshires**.

* When asked upon check-in for my passport (on our first foreign trip together) I pointed rather shamefacedly at the case disappearing down the conveyor belt? Happily the check-in lady was 'delighted' to scramble down the conveyor belt to retrieve it. Since that day I have not been allowed custody of my own passport unless travelling alone. Fair enough really.

** Oh, and buttons. I get to do all button sewing on too. And calling France Telecom. See, I'm quite useful really.