I am: drinking a long mojito using lemon syrup just made per Jane's receipt, and with lots of terrace mint and viscously cold Bacardi; am about to go up to check on the farm* and to add a cage to the new tomatoes - I haven't watered in three days but the soil has those gloopy-when-wet, moisture-retentive crystals added to it. Name escapes me. Must be the mojito. Later will cook risotto - lemon, I think. Have dead-headed the David Austin roses, which have the first signs of black spot, have watered the terrace, given the cat his antibiotic, made my husband the same drink - put lamb for tomorrow's cold meatballs with walnut sauce in the fridge to defrost....and....that's about it.
Tomorrow I will deal with tomorrow.
*It is not a real farm. It is my agricultural revolution, says Constanza. But I will call it the farm.
(Maybe the meatballs should be warm with goat cheese and scallions. We'll see.)