As you can imagine, now that I’ve come to think of it, I never really thought about it like that.
Sunday might last, and on Thursday I was on slug patrol. It’s like trying to keep the tide out. If I was spotted, with torch in one hand and scissors in the other, many questions about my sanity and my extreme bad taste would arise.
Which photograph takes first place in my garden competition this week? It was a private affair and I won easily. The prize is a two-night trip to West Cork.