Best to start with the not-so-good things in the garden first.
I haven’t been part of Six on Saturday for very long but it’s fairly obvious I’m growing a white garden. For many, I daresay white can be boring, but this evening, my husband and I walked in the gate from a dog-walk and the whites and ivories glowed like moonbeams. They provide their own sort of luminescence and in fact for me, it’s a kind of secretive garden at night – pearly light leading me on.
But guess what? I do have colour! Some of the plants have little backstories and it’s that which allows them to take their part in my white garden.
As part of the regular gardening blog hop put up by The Propagator, my Six for Saturday are growing in our little matchbox garden in the city. I mentioned once before in another post, that this garden is only three and half years old and was built from scratch. (See Matchbox Gardens)
I’m having a go at writing two novels simultaneously. This is the kind of thing that UK writer Simon Turney does with consummate ease and copious cups of coffee. I am not that mad on coffee and the process does make me feel a tad schizoid.
Still, there we go…
The other day, I was surprised to hear someone refer to me historically as ‘the weather girl’ and as it has always done, it frustrated me. That my small career on TV and radio was reduced to that description with its cliched connotations. You know the sort I mean – blonde bimbo, plastic fantastic and with no concept of how weather really works. I know – silly of me to get wangled about the term, but there you go.
I’m taking a leaf out of one of my favourite blogs, https://thecraftycreek.com
Every week, Margaret from Yorkshire has a meander round her garden and I love watching the seasons dance through the various corners of her landscape.
She does many other things as her week progresses and much of it resonates with my own interests but in this instance, I’m taking a Wednesday Wander through my city garden as I take a break from editing Michael.
‘The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea.’
Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Life sometimes makes me anxious.
I’m sure it makes everyone anxious. But the one place I feel content, free and at peace is in, on or by the sea. I wish Mum was still alive so that I could ask her how old I was when I was introduced to the sea.
When did I learn to swim? My memories go back to a time when I could swim and dive, perhaps I was six. After that, the memories come thick and fast…