Another 70s album cover?

Truly I was born in trippy times. Not that Dublin in 1964 was in the least trippy, but there was something in the air later. I was amused to see that Barcaldine House, in Argyll, which was being squatted by "hash-smoking hippies" in the early 1970s, is now a luxury hotel. Come to think of it, there are an awful lot of luxury hotels there now. I accidentally looked up one in Glencoe and found it was £389 for a double for one night. Bargain!

But I digress. This silly picture is from Homebase, with added effects. Trips to large shops or garden centres usually make my head a bit whirly. I may have discovered a viable fencing system, though. And more effing gravel for my collection of samples.

I walked there, along the canal, in fine sunshine. Popped into a friend's place afterwards. She gave me lunch. I had forgotten that her 'salads' are usually a couple of days old and contain no salad leaves. This one gave me a bellyache for several hours after eating it. CleanSteve rang as I was leaving and said he was going to Frampton Court Lake. I went with him, even though it meant cutting down my gardening time to about ten minutes. Well, it is the seventh day, and I've done garden research instead.

I lay on a rug at the lake and it was very still, as the lake has developed harmful green algae. Only swans were about. I read my book until my eyes closed. When I awoke, it was time to go home.

We watched The Murder of Roger Ackroyd (a Poirot case) and CleanSteve fell asleep. I put in an order for brochures and card samples, and now I have the thrilling task of clearing the mess I have made of the back room sofa by piling things on it, and going to bed, because some of the nursery children will be in tomorrow morning, and I have to be bright-eyed and bouncy.