The term 'hero' is thrown around a lot these days, WILLY NILLY, but I think it should apply here. For last night, I rescued my little plants on the balcony from a storm. Instead of sleeping.

This is what it looked like

Instead of sleeping, I not only brought half of my garden into my fairly small bedroom, appearing like a ghostly hobbit in my pyjamas on my balcony, but I also repotted a couple of them. I got some EXCELLENT HONEYSUCKLE in the post yesterday, causing me more joy that it should have done at work (I kind of cuddled the plant at my desk, but my colleagues have grown so used to me now that this passed largely without comment. Unless they have begun to comment behind my back, possibly to psychiatrist, possibly with a view to Lunatic From Company Removal). It nearly didn't survive the storm because it did not arrive potted because it is still A BABY, and I'd just put it in the mini-greenhouse with a view to potting it at some point over the weekend. The soil went EVERYWHERE during the storm. So that is how I ended up gardening at midnight, instead of sleeping on the evening BEFORE THE COMPANY APPRAISAL OF FEAR.
That was all fine, anyway, and also at work yesterday I got to hold A BABY. Even better, a baby HUMAN, not a baby plant. I told her about fire extinguishers.
This weekend I am committed to bakery of the most intense kind – FRUIT PIES. I am highly tempted to make elderberry vodka if I can be bothered to pick the elderberries and it's not freezing.