It was my birthday on Thursday.
Stella, Lindsey and I went to the Boatshed for lunch, by way of celebration.
I had booked a table earlier in the week. Couldn't get a table on The Deck - there was a group booking. But our table in the restaurant overlooked the water and had a lovely view
View from our table |
Stella, waiting for her confit duck |
My celebratory barramundi and chips with a birthday glass of fizz |
A conversation I had with my mother a week or so ago:
Stella: What would you like for your birthday?
Frances: Bunnings Money, please
Stella: Bunnings? What do you want to get at Bunnings?
Frances: Potting mix, cow manure mix and mulch, please
Stella: POTTING MIX? COW MANURE???!!!! What sort of a birthday present is that? Wouldn't you rather have some nice clothes or expensive soap or something?
Frances: No thank you. I have clothes and don't use expensive soap.
Stella: Something for the kitchen, perhaps?
Frances: No thank you. I don't need anything for the kitchen and I do need potting mix, cow manure and mulch for the garden.
So with reluctance, Stella handed over some money and after lunch Lindsey and I headed off to Bunnings.
I had a lovely time on my birthday afternoon filling up a couple of garden beds and planting a small rhubarb plant that Freyja and Simon gave me when they moved into their flat. The rhubarb plant that I already have will move in with it in the autumn. This time I really, really, really must remember to move it!
I want to turn the area at the back of the house into a proper utility area. It already has the hot water heat pump and the air conditioning unit out there, along with a small plastic greenhouse that I use for storing plant pots. I intend to move the redundant raised veg bed there. (It was never particularly successful as a vegetable growing space and I use it as a potting table.) Then I'll move the raspberries and the rhubarb around into the fruit and vegetable garden. I might even put up the metal arch that I bought three or so years ago and haven't managed to install anywhere. It's in the garage, waiting for its moment in the sun.
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