On Saturday I sold my puppy to a couple who were - and I'm trying to find a word that doesn't make me sound outrageously snobby - earthy. It felt like selling my child to the circus. But it softened the blow that the pup was behaving like a mad, biting she-devil tearing round the garden (I think perhaps aware that another move was imminent, and which the buyers thankfully found adorable) and also that I got almost all my money back. I do think the people are good-hearted and since they have a quarter-acre back yard, I'm sure Syd will do well.
Today as I meandered through the house at 9am, all calm and restored, I checked on my plants all of whom had been sadly neglected for a month. I was certain that my thyme plant had died, but when I cut back the dead shoots, I found new ones growing underneath. I like a good metaphor of a morning.
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