Rain has fallen like a bucket being emptied in a temper.

On the drive into town this morning the gardener's outstanding offer stifled my 'Diversion Rage'. Sign upon orange sign littered the grey kerbs, their thick black lettering meaning nothing to me. So being a good patient driver I sort of followed them and finally saw the blessed Sainsbury's sign.
I hate diversions.
But I love Sainsbury's.

Filled up the trolley, chatted to till girl Barb about the year nearing its end, greying hair and gardening... "Aahhh" I said "I have a man who tends my patch". Barb laughed and barcoded me out of the shop.
I like Barb.

I also like my gardener, his enthusiasm for the nail destroying job leaves me wondering if he has a life outside of soil, manure and beds. I was, of course, too polite to ask.
But over wedges of chocolate cake and pints of tea we finally got down to a plan.

His red faced laugh over my indecisions about size and design made me laugh too but eventually I plumped not for any old herb garden, but a monastery style garden. Just what the difference is I don't quite know, but I envisage moonlight romps around the parsley and lunchtime leaps over the basil. Bless Graham's heart he's even offered to give me some 'decking' so as I can amble easily from herb to herb. Oh, and he's not interested in money.

Thinking about it now, just before my tea, I can't ever see me ever dawdling from one bush to the other, but it might inspire me to travel further afield...Maybe learn a thing or two about border control that sort of thing.
And that can't be a bad thing.
As the cook and the hired help frolicked amongst the mess the hired help suggested all sorts of things.
Some of them to do with gardening. Most of his talk was to do with me being bonkers. Took it on the chin I did, as I wedged him some more cake.
But he has a warm generous heart under the sweaty blue shirt and a grimy sense of humour so the cook might just get what she wants.

With gardening firmly in mind I bought a net of daffodil bulbs today.
Spring should pop up golden.

Mr H. is on lates tonight, so I, the cook, is surviving on kids stuff; cheese burgers, fries and the last wedge of choccie cake. It's saturated fat but all homemade saturated fat!

The rain is most comforting.
And good for the garden:)