Cider with Fiacre - Rosie couldn’t make it.

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Right now I’m sitting in the sunshine at the back of my house, surveying my garden, and refreshing my weary self with a bottle of pear cider. There are five swollen bumble bees hanging lugubriously around the lavender plants and I can hear the ferry loose itself from its chains down at the harbour as it sets sail for Scotland. We’ll go down to the harbour later to experience (rather than look at) the moon eclipsing the sun. Once we’ve been impressed we’ll return home and have cottage pie for dinner and my wife will continue packing for her two night trip to Manchester tomorrow. Even though Manchester is to suffer 33 centigrade degrees of heat, the hot water bottle will still travel with her in case the weather girl has lied through her perfect teeth.