Rosemarie came round this afternoon.

She owed me a couple of hours work from the other day and so she turned up at 14:30 armed with a few gardening tools and set to work. When we stopped for a coffee at 17:00 she had weeded 6 of the raised beds and done a far better job than I could ever do in that time. I was ever so impressed.

In the meantime I planted the aubergines that I had bought on Saturday and the pepper and chili plants that Liz gave me on Saturday night, and weeded a few more of the pathways. All in all, it's looking pretty impressive right now in the garden and I'll tell you what - when there's two of you working, somehow the work seems to be completed much more quickly than if there is just one person working twice as long, if you know what I mean.

And in some kind of indication of how much I was motivated, after Rosemarie left, I weeded the path outside the front of the house, lifted up the two pallets that I was using as a kind-of terrace, put an old tarpaulin down to kill off the weeds, and then put the pallets back and set out the garden furniture. And it was all of 19:45 when I finished - a long time after knocking-off time but at least I have my outside table and chairs in position for whenever the summer finally arrives - it was another miserable day.

This morning though, I went off to the Post Office in Pionsat to post the ... errr ... 9 letters that I had written yesterday. I'm glad that they are all done and dealt with now. Returning home, I finished off the web pages that I had recently written, to find that the one that I've just been doing, instead of being a grand maximum of 34kb and hopefully less than that, is all of 57kb. That's going to need dividing into two, but I'm not sure where the join would be.

Once I'd done something with that I moved a few more things downstairs and then went outside and started slinging stuff into the back of Caliburn. It was then that Rosemarie arrived.

So all in all, another pile of progress today. If I'm not very careful I might be starting to organise myself, and that would never do.