Summer comes to Stockbridge

and everyone goes all continental. Summer frocks, eating and drinking outside, doors and windows thrown open. You’d think it was the South of France. Ah well, might as well enjoy it while we can.

On a more mundane level, I used the lovely afternoon weather to sit my husband on a chair in the garden and give him a haircut (special pensioner rate!) - the extensive clippings from this long overdue task were placed strategically where any birds looking for nesting materials can find.