After watching the beetroot coloured faces returning home from Havrans' own wild swimming hideaway it has crossed our minds whether sun cream is ever bought in this country.
When it comes to pain my morning had been pretty spectacular too.
It started with a vicious attack by a bramble bush which left blood dripping and a thorn piercing the back of my ear without noticing it until lunchtime. The secateurs though had the revenging last laugh.
Next were the nettles. Wearing in-appropiate gloves with conveniently placed holes on the fingers, regular stinging pursued whilst making a new batch of natural fertilizer feed for the vegetables. Intensive scratching followed.
Over ripened pears have been falling quickly from our two old trees lining the track outside the cottage. Bruised and battered, they make an excellent addition to the compost. As I picked up this content I heard the regular ruffling of a new pear falling through the leaves, too late to take cover as I softened its landing with my head. There was still time to be stung by a wasp enjoying the inside juices of one of the fruits.
And it is not a good idea to wear gummy slippers and use a pick axe to excavate hard dry ground. Nothing needs explaining as to why I had a sore toe.
Consequently I decided it was time to leave before any further injury. Sun cream packed, as I was already red-faced from all the other previous events of the day.
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