Well, this is depressing.

The sun . .. ohmiword, the sun. This heat is almost frightening. It waits, crouched and ready to destroy. The door has become an oven door. The grass looks tired. The tomatoes are dying, the horse sweat in the shade, under the fans. I abhor the heat. Always have.

The House is quiet now. Back to Robert and I. And Nellie. And Brymer. Work is quietly impossible - I will never be finished. Tess is patiently waiting to head home. I am dreading the walk out to throw on the saddle.

But the horses need hay, Nellie needs to come back inside and I have to see how Brymer is now. He stroked this morning.