shewhomust | English summer

It seems like no time - and it is, indeed, just ten days - since our return from Scotland, but we are already away from home again, on Lindisfarne for our traditional midsummer visit. I didn't feel stressed about this short turnaround, I felt that I was making good, steady progress, doing such worky tasks as had to be done, getting through the laundry, emptying the fridge - right up to the last minute when I realised that yes, this was all good and steady and would be completed about two days after the deadline. So I cut some corners and discarded some inessentials, and by the time D. and

valydiarosada arrived (having struggled with roadworks all the way) I was ready to put dinner on the table and open a bottle of wine. I'd have been happier if I'd started the packing before this morning, but it all got done eventually, and if anything essential has been left behind, its absence has not yet been discovered - except, of course, for

durham_rambler's overnight bag, which we spotted just as we reached the Team Valley, and had to go back for...

Another year, another "cottage". We are staying at St Coombs Farmhouse, just along the road, and a little further on, from where we stayed last year. It is large and rambling, with a big kitchen which is warmed by an Aga, and a second kitchen with a conventional cooker in case you are nervous of the Aga. Before the week is over, I hope to engage with the beast, but not yet.

I have spent most of the afternoon sitting in the conservatory, reading the paper while the sky darkened and the rain began. Then came the rumblings of thunder and a faint flash of lightning, then heavier rain clattering on the glass roof above us, and swirling of the roof in visible gusts. The storm came closer, the thunder louder and the flashes brighter - and then it stopped, more abruptly than it had started. D. has been out, and reports that we are surrounded by lakes, but he is probably exaggerating, and anyway, the sun is shining.

Time to think about cooking.