Lot's of things growing in the polytunnel and some of them are not weeds. Some are even edible - including some of the weeds (sorrel.) The rocket I rescued and replanted from the Kiwi occupants of the past shot because I didn't think to pinch the tops. Still some tasty bits, though there was a big caterpillar in the bit I offered Finn, so he's off rocket for life. Shame about that. The brocoli doesn't look remotely like brocoli, but maybe it is the slow grower that will be ready for Spring. The nasturtiums were for the slugs to eat, but the toads have eaten most of the slugs, so they are doing quite well.

Dougie Lampkin.

World Champ many times over and his uncle was a hero of Spook as a young lad.

In the No Fuss Tent, no less.

Not Football, not Tennis, not Tour De France, but it WAS in Fort William and it was quite exciting. And that is Finn's pal's big brother with the Bagpipes.

Fur Balls.

The rain finally arrived in time for the school holidays. Just like it used to do when I was at school. It's still warm, but we are missing the sun.
Life is very busy. Spook is doing a bit of house husbandry, and did spend a bit too much time yesterday, marvelling at how he had got 5 beds changed and washing dried, despite the weather. The spaghetti bolognaise was very good too, but if he expects me to keep up this kind of standard I'll have to take on more hours at work to avoid my responsibilities.
I did cook the dinner after work today, but felt a wee bit sick when I was putting it in the Raeburn and saw a wee ball of dark fur in the oven. I wondered what had gone off and furry without me noticing it before (and hoped that BJ, owner of the big black dogs, hadn't noticed the hygiene issue nestled with his meal.) I felt even more squeamish when I realised it was a tiny bat. It must have fallen down the flue, and hopefully drifted off to sleep in the increasing warmth as the oven heated up. It took a manly performance from Spook to remove it, while I hid round the corner. I wonder if we are going to find more bats in future lasagnes. My vegetarian, teenage daughter called me an IDIOT for not checking the oven for bats before I turned it on - in a tone of voice that only teenage girls can come up with.
The training is going very badly. Spook is running 3 races this weekend and I am working. There are about 10 weeks to The Ben Race. Any day now, I will launch my offensive. It's still not too late.