Every year I’m asked how I’d like to spend my birthday.
Heavens’ knows why because it’s an unbroken tradition that I go to Maria Island for the day with my husband.
Once upon a time…
… we downsized to a small house with a tiny garden. The garden, once established, had to give us (and the dog) joy. And an escape from the city outside the gates, because we’re not city folk.
It also had to promise to care for itself for large tracts of time.
So not a lot to ask really…
I’m back in the Matchbox Garden away from the coast as I prepare for further eye surgery on Tuesday, so had a trip to the nursery, bought a few things and had a little bit of a plantathon… not that one really gets a sweat-up in the Matchbox, unlike my Northern Hemisphere friends who are sweltering!
Today I offer up a bit of a mish-mash of pics because in all honesty, there’s only so much to see in a garden that’s tiny.
We’ve been in the city for 10 days, but are now back in the big garden. Despite lack of water and freezing conditions, the garden has surprised us, doing things with a distinct ‘Where’s spring?’ attitude. My six might show that our garden is gradually waking from winter (such as winter was…)
Inevitably, with contemporary fiction, parallels are drawn between the circumstances in the novel and an author’s own life.
Cathy Kelly, one of the world’s most successful women’s fiction writers, (and who very kindly wrote a superb endorsement for Passage) said: ‘Everyone assumes that if you write contemporary fiction, it is about yourself…’
As summer continues to bake our garden, it becomes more difficult to find anything to talk about. One can bemoan the cost of the water with which we irrigate the garden on a heavy daily basis. One can whinge about the dry thunderstorms and the humidity immediately after. Or whine about the longing for an autumnal-styled day so one can work happily in the garden.