Home for the summer

Evelyn and I have been home for a week. The trunks are unpacked, and all our books are put away. I've been spending some time out in Gran's garden. It was looking a little ragged, frankly, because she's feeling her rheumatism more, which means she's not getting out there on her hands and knees to weed the way she used to. But Evelyn and me got it all cleaned up. And I've planted the little tree that a friend sent me, in a nice, sunny spot on the south side of the house where it will have plenty of room to grow. I think it made the journey from Hogwarts okay. At least it hasn't wilted yet.

Now I'm sort of scratching around, trying to figure out what to do with myself. Evelyn's been happy reading comics, but comics don't really interest me the way they did a year or two ago. Gran takes us to volunteer at the camp at Wyre once a week, but, well, that's just once a week. My great Uncle Algie says he'll take us fishing soon.

I almost wish I were old enough to get a summer job or something, but most people don't like to hire kids for summer work until they're at least sixteen. It's not that I need the money, since Gran'll give me pocket money. It's more like I just need things to do to fill my time.

I suppose I could help people in their gardens, but Gran's sort of the mind that I should volunteer to do it. A lot of her friends are getting older have trouble getting out and weeding, too. Well, I suppose I could. It would fill the days at least.