You can't get from the garage to the house without Eleanor stopping to weed the garden. 'Eleanor, it is raining. Let's go.' 'I'm just going to do a little bit of weeding. Weed, weed, weed.'

This afternoon the sun broke out, so we went in the back to do some actual, proper, sanctioned weeding. She is surprisingly good at knowing what's a weed.

My garden is coming along. About a third of Squash City died straight away, because I've planted it in what is basically clay, but the rest of it looks like making a recovery. I'll chalk those pattypan squash plants on the left up to learning (in particular learning to research) because they are bush plants, not vining plants. The trellis is no use to them. My pea plants are having a go, though.

Both of my watermelon plants are dead, and one of my basils. Eleanor keeps trying to resurrect it by adding dirt to the pot.

You also can't make it into the house without Eleanor wanting to 'eat a taste of a herb.' I had to cut her down to one herb per day, and if we're having wraps for lunch I let her pick one to put in her wrap. Today I let her have TWO mint leaves because that plant is going WILD.

Geneva just hangs out, doing baby stuff.

Until it's time to make supper, and then she's all squawking and impatient and I have to put her in the wrap and I can't see what I'm chopping.

I bite that chin, though. I bite it often.