Night-scented stocks

After one trough of flowers grown from seed yesterday, it seemed only fair to do the night-scented stocks today. They have to be photographed in the evening, as during the day they are all shrivelled up. Unfortunately, it's not possible to photograph and render unto blip the gorgeous delicate scent that wafts into the flat, through the open balcony door.

Another gorgeous day, although it started off fairly grey and cold, but it had brightened up by the time that Mr A came with me on one of my regular pilgrimages to Milk Cafe. We sat companionably on either side of the table with our devices (laptop/ipad with keyboard) for an hour or two and enjoyed excellent coffee and cake (him) / snacks (me). However, he raised the B word on the way back, and I warned him that I came out for walks precisely in order to get away from topics like that, so if he wanted to come again he should be aware of the banned topics.

After dinner (ruby veal done the favourite masala curry way), we sat out with a parsimonious one beer, and then I embarked on a bit of gardening, digging out and disposing of one plant that was taking over a pot in an ugly way, and sorting a few other bits and pieces out. We had a debate about whether it is legitimate to call what we have on the balcony a 'garden'. I think it is. Mr A thinks you need 'land' to have a garden, and to be honest the dictionary definitions seem to agree with him.

Other than that, I did a peloton class as part of my ongoing programme (killing, 45 minutes of exceedingly sweaty effort), and lots of writing. It's got so warm in the flat, that I've resorted to opening my study window, even though it increases the traffic (and other) noise, and I still have to have the blind down.