Cake in English gardens

Up fairly early for a weekend. Lorraine off to her gym, and then a haircut. I worked on a new poem, and then walked to Hove to see Lorraine emerging from he hairdresser looking sleek-haired and chic. We drove from there off to Henfield, a nearby town, to meet Dawn, who had cycled from Steyning, to mooch about in the open gardens.  Had some food in the first one, salad and then a piece of cake, I had a piece of excellent apple and cinnamon cake. There are a lot worse things to be doing than eating cake and drinking tea on a warm day in a garden. Conversations to be had with Dawn, about human relationships, then we mooched happily about looking at the open gardens. Always interesting, and lots of lovely English gardens with roses and lavender and a thousand other flowers. 

Fond farewells with Dawn, then we drove back home and Betty came around, and we had chicken wraps and chatted. Beth then enjoyed a long bath, and Lorraine and I watched a gardening programme. Everyone tired, so an early night.

Below, I managed to take no photos at all of the gardens. There were a few of these whimsical flower trousers about, and liked this glass in St Peter's Church which, as Dawn was telling us, has quite a history. I also snapped litchen and moss on a gravestone, because that's what I do.