A dash of crocodile

Up early. Calliope persistent in waking me up, not helped by the gulls on the roof sounding like they are dragging corpses about. Did some writing this morning, and did a bit of this and that. 

Then Lorraine left to see Chi for a massage at Bodyhaven, and I met Yvonne for a cup of coffee and an Eccles cake in the Salts cafe. Yvonne told me about looking after her grandchildren the day before. The oldest one is mad about dinosaurs and had spent the day roaring and ambushing Brian. He also likes crocodiles, which Yvonne wondered if it was genetic, as she had grown up with her father's pet crocodile. The baby, meanwhile, screamed continuously for about 12 hours, which was harrowing.

In the afternoon Lorraine drove us off to Pelham Plants  just north of Lewes, where their Rose Cottage garden was open for charity. This is a nursery that Lorraine follows on instagram, we mooched about in the smallish garden which had lovely hornbeam hedges, and shared some bread pudding with the wasps and sipped cups of tea. Someone who works in education knew Lorraine, and later another colleague, who also happens to be married to the man who runs the nursery. A burst of talking about schools. Then we looked hard at plants. Lorraine exhibited laudable restraint, and we came away with some houseleeks, a word I don't remember hearing before, and a gypsophila and a blueish thistle. All in all a pleasant interlude.

Home again and a cheery evening, eating very healthily: salads of grated beetroot and carrot, and bulgar wheat and leaves and so on with some halloumi. 

Below, flowers in a Sussex Garden.