The morning - and the night before

You would think, would you not, that after my chocolate-disrupted sleep of the previous night I'd be off to bed early with my book (but not the trad milky drink - that would kill sleep for ever)? Reader, you'd be wrong. I seem to be congenitally unable to go to bed at a sensible hour, with the result that I was stooging around this morning in my dressing gown well after the time when civilised people are clothed and in their right mind(s). My excuse was that I wanted to cut my hair before I showered, and that I'd do it better if I'd had my breakfast. Anyway, it was such a glorious morning and such a lousy weather forecast that I was out in the garden taking photos in a state of déshabille. Under that lovely sky, I can't help noticing how my garden seems to be looming somewhat - everything has grown wildly in the rain. Keeps it private, I suppose ...

My extra photo is one result of my late perambulations. At 1am I was hanging out of my bedroom window trying to hold the phone steady to get a photo of that wonderful strip of noctilucent cloud above St John's. And it was when I was about to close the window that I noticed the surprisingly large (about rugby ball size) shape of a hedgehog walking composedly up my neighbour's garden in the light from the streetlamp. I know I mentioned hedgehogs here last year at this time, but all we've seen to date in our garden this summer has been the little offerings it leaves on our path. I'm delighted to know it/they are still around.

The rest of the day was grey, damp and chilly, even after I'd had my morning coffee in the sunshine outside and felt it too warm for the top I was wearing. On a final cheerful note, however, I can report that my lovely hairdresser phoned in the late afternoon and I've made an appointment for a month hence. Better not do any more snipping ...