Cutting jasmine

Slept like a large baby at Lorraine's house, but we did little apart from gardening in my Twitten, as Lorraine had been itching to have a go at the roses. Calliope almost getting her head lopped off after poking it out from the high branches of the rampant jasmine I was attacking. The jasmine prettily overhangs the Twitten but provides cover for the various ne'redowells and freestyle micturators. As I cut it back, furry brown caterpillars dropped out onto my clothes. Lorraine as usual loving gardening but squeaking about a large spider making its way up the broom handle at one point.

Spoke to Mason who told me Mum has continued to improve.

Lorraine diagnosed an absence of food in my house, so drove me to Sainsburys. After she had gone home, I got on with doing some French work fresh in from the No rest for the wicked department. Also issued a couple of chasing invoice emails before calling Toby, who was beset by a cold. At last settled down to watch Chelsea spank Blackpool 4-0 on match of the day and scarfing blackberries and yogurt. All well despite being under the shadow of Monday.