Every season, I write a longer blogpost, a bit like a newsletter, to have a chat about the previous season of doings.
Spring has sprung upon us and scared the hell out of us with three days of 18-26 this week! We literally watched the blossom emerge from the trees and then fall before we could even rush to get cameras and things, in between dashing around with a hose, moistening dry soil.
But then all day yesterday it rained and so the garden is looking satiated and as if it now has time to really think about spring. It’s about 13 today and a few things have opened. One must take the time to look because one finds spring is done and dusted in our neck of the woods in next to no time.
concatenation; plural noun: concatenations a series of interconnected things.
‘A series of interconnected things…’ If you’re a writer, it’s most likely that someone at some time has said: ‘It would be great as a series.’
And the truth is that many writers write copious series. Myself? I’ve written three series and am now in the middle of the fourth.
Why you may ask?
Had a swift dash to the city to collect mail and make sure the little Matchbox was okay. And to pick up birthday presents. I dashed around the tiny garden, took five shots, and then in a bitterly cold Antarctic burst, drove back up the coast. No pics from here but tomorrow I will be planting rhubarb and purple asparagus and feeding the herbs.
Today, it is six years since my mother passed away.
Mum was a legend and I have cause to wonder what may have passed to me from her.
Mum was small, but tough.
Resilient, courageous, strong-minded, funny and whilst forthright with her family, intrinsically introverted. She hated society and being social. Simply, she preferred the company of her children, son in law and her grandchildren along with two of her closest and much loved friends.
We could trust her to be there for us always – with a hug, a word and most likely a homemade meal.
Always busy, it wasn’t for nothing that we called her our little Gurkha, our Durocell Bunny. Always beautifully presented, Mum was the personification of Carpe Diem. Seize the Day but always with hair done and lippy on.
Yes, so much to have learned from her and heights still to aim for.
I miss her…
Claire Isobel Wallace. 25/11/25 – 30/07/2016
I haven’t been around for awhile. It’s not that I haven’t been in the gardens, not at all. It’s just that my writerly work requires long hours at the screen and I couldn’t face blogging. It’s also difficult to load things where we live on the coast, as our internet has slowed dramatically and mostly, I have to work off my phone. But happy with progress on the latest manuscript, and with a hot chocolate drink seasoned with marshmallows and Lindt chocolate shavings, I feel revived enough to post about the gardens.