Chaos is come again ...

Before I start - that's a quotation; you can start racking your brains now...

Last night having been yet another latish one, I got up thinking of today as a sort of day off (absurd, I know, at my stage of life) but find myself once more scampering to finish off the daily paper (online) before writing this before trying to be in bed for midnight (unlikely). The weather forecast looked uncertain, the linen basket full - so I did two big loads of its contents and hung them all out on the line, where they hung through at least three episodes of rain but in the end came in dry: result! All this sort of depended on coffee, my rescue remedy around which my morning revolves. I think I must still be a bit post-viral, if such things manifest themselves more at some times of the day than others; either that or I'm simply such a caffeine addict that my 11am shot is more necessary than ever...

It was while I was pottering in and out with the washing that I realised what the hedge in the back garden had become - a great furry wall of green sprouting at an alarming rate so that it threatens to become like a hedge in a fairy tale about a princess shut away behind impenetrable thickets - you know the kind of thing. As we're planning on a few days' escape in the next wee while, I decided Something Would Have To Be Done. 

That something couldn't be done right away: I had another date with Stanford (got all my intervals right except one - sang a 5th instead of a 4th - very near the end; not to be repeated tomorrow!) and then there was lunch and the obligatory snooze over the papers ...

But then to the garden. Trimming the hedge necessitates the moving of all the pots along its base on the patio, so that they're not covered in cuttings. The chaos ensued when once more I forgot to take a photo of them before I began dragging them away - so that when I took the photo above I hadn't the least idea where some of them went back. Himself appeared, in protective glasses and ear protectors, and set to with the trimmer while I clambered up on the steps to snip (with blunt shears) the bits he couldn't reach, the bits that really belong to our neighbour who's away, which were sprouting from the top.Then there was the sweeping up, the washing of the patio, and the dreaded returning of the pots.

I think I got it right. 

So chaos was averted. But the quotation? It's from Othello: perdition catch my soul/ But I do love thee! and when I love thee not/ Chaos is come again...