After an exhausting weekend, I wish I could just collapse into one of those garden chairs in the park for the next week or so and just sit still. Why are weekends, particularly in summer, always too short?
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Boy is not that the truth! I’ll join you! 🙂
Our two months’ of rain have given way to some sunshine at last so yesterday I was in the garden all day … or rather in the summerhouse, as I watched wall to wall coverage of The Open (the British golf open championship to be more precise!) It was wonderful … had breakfast outside, small TV in summerhouse, lunch outside, afternoon tea in front of the final holes … utter bliss. The garden has looked better, I admit, but the grass is lush after all the rain. And today there is wall to wall blue sky so perhaps at last summer, if a little late in arriving, is here. But yes, weekends are short … but then, they always were!
I was lamenting myself last night! Sunday nights are the worst part of the week for me. 🙂
I’ll sit in the ash heap with you. The summer is flying by way too fast!