Hatched in red

not really now not any more

Claire heads off to clean out the lifeboat hut. I head back home. Angus and Ferdi are “chilling” in the shade while the sun beats down outside.

I don my straw hat and start on the espaliered plum trees. It’s a trifle late to prune them, but necessary. I get through three before lunch. Four left.

Angus scrambles eggs while I transfer eight chicks from the incubator to their new home. I’m going to need a bigger box, especially if there are any more hatchlings over the next few days.

We rearrange speakers into a neat, compact pile and I head off to Skirling with a carload of rubbish. Exhausted, I doze on the couch before rousing myself in early evening to prune a fourth plum.