Tuesday, July 25
Garden, Sundö, 11:44
We got up early this morning to a suspiciously bright day. We even had breakfast in the garden, for the third time this summer.
Camilla moved the sheep that spent the last week next to us to a field slightly further away this morning and then took down the electric fencing. I cleared away all the branches and tree trunks that we had thrown in there to feed the sheep and amuse ourselves.
Last weekend, on Byadagen, we bought two black plants from Anne-Maj’s sale. One of them has completely black leaves and one of them has almost-black leaves. They stand in different parts of the garden.
I walk over to the second plant and photograph it, to see if I can. Apparently I can, although the colour differences between the leaves seem more noticeable on the photograph than in real life. Thanks to our new craze, not only do I photograph it I upload the photograph to Instagram and then spend the rest of the day checking in to see how many likes I have got.
I do not believe that this craze will last more than a week or two unless I can think of a way of using Instagram that meets a real need: a specific kind of photo to take, or a specific technical challenge, for example.
I promised to help with the hay-making again this afternoon, but at midday the sky will cloud over and a two-hour rain storm will begin. Plans will change, and I will sit indoors listening to the rain and reading Paul Auster’s Book of Illusions which seems on-track to become one of the best novels I have read in the last few years.
Irma will leave for Helsinki at 13:10, and pause to collect the newspaper from the postman as he drives off the ferry. This will, as in all good comedy acts, cause her to miss the ferry. She will send me a picture of home via WhatsApp at 14:45.
The rain will get heavier and heavier after she leaves until it stops suddenly at 16:30. Sunshine will then come wandering in, bone-dry and wanting food. When I go outside I will find that a small part of the garden has actually flooded. I can see puddles large enough to require navigating round.