Today I did a brief stint of real work in the garden for the first time in ages. I began by deadheading a climbing rose I have trained along a fence. It became clear there was a lot of dead wood in it which wasn't so obvious when I pruned it a few months ago, so I cleared most of that out. Doing it carefully took ages: I had to keep going to the back of the little fence to get at bits from the other side. But I always allow gardening to take ages, that's how I like to do things, I am very spendthrift with time.
Then I picked sweet peas, contemplated one of the compost heaps for a while (which needs turning), and then picked all the white currants. I made juice of them and froze it in ice-cubes, as being the form of them most useful to us. Can't remember what I did with them last year. It was 120g. We always get far more of red ones, and blackcurrants. We also had a few blissfully woodlouse-free strawberries, and some mini-cucumbers.
The garden has got to a rather scary stage. I look around at it, and it feels like a child of mine that has gone from childhood to a rather wild adolescence when I wasn't looking. I'm proud of it, but I feel much less in charge than before!