Good egg

Last autumn, next door's three-year-old helped me pick French beans. She took some home to eat and I stashed some in an envelope. This afternoon she came round and was wide-eyed to see the rest of what she'd picked. She cracked open the dry pods, chose the best beans (unerringly) and stuck them deep into pots of soil with her finger. When there was one fewer than I'd counted I asked her whether she'd pushed one into pot with the squash plant which I'd planned to give her to keep her engaged until the beans emerge. Yes, she had. That will be an interesting pot.

This evening it was my turn to be wide-eyed. I have never before in my life been given a goose egg. May this continue to be a week of surprises.