After the excesses of Saturday, it felt good to get my teeth into some allotmenteering today. Durex and I weeded all around the cauliflour and the spuds, and cleared out the nets to keep the birds off. Liz came down to the allotment, looking wonderful in a green dress. I was so glad to see her, especially as my battered soul and body was hungry for hugging.
And hungry in the conventional sense too, it turned out. We made ratatouille using marrows and courguettes from the allotment, and sat and ate it in the sunshine of the garden. Liz showed me her herbs, and the lawn she's proudly nurtured around the back of 46. We played watering can baseball with coal for balls. I was dressed like a raver.
I hate coldsores. Kissing Liz is a joy, and to not be able to do so for a while is going to be very difficult.
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