Hello again
Blogging is a funny thing. Do it and it is compulsive: the writing, the comments, the reading of other blogs. Stop, even if only for a few days, and it is oddly hard to start again. What on earth have I got to say?
Not much really.
We had a visit from some lovely friends who live in Canada. They insisted that the thing they wanted to do most in the world was to help us weed and manure our rhubarb bed. I know, I told you they were lovely.
The children began to gather for Ian's birthday and the house was suddenly full of them and a puppy and a toddler. The sun shone. The cakes were iced. Food was planned and prepared. My sister and her family arrived and tents went up in the field and still the sun shone. Family and old friends poured in from near and far and the sun poured in too. Dogs poddled about happily, the oldest stuck to my father's side, the next one playing football with older children, the puppy happily eating raspberries and windfall apples. There was much food eaten, games played, the toddler swung backwards and forwards for as long as anyone would push him. A great tide of warmth and friendship washed through the house and garden.
None of my carefully planned cutting garden, all orange and gold, was in flower and I can't say I cared a bit.
And now everyone has gone and the cat is sleeping quietly and the rain is trickling down the window and the whole weekend has a golden light around it.
Lucky or what?
Not much really.
We had a visit from some lovely friends who live in Canada. They insisted that the thing they wanted to do most in the world was to help us weed and manure our rhubarb bed. I know, I told you they were lovely.
The children began to gather for Ian's birthday and the house was suddenly full of them and a puppy and a toddler. The sun shone. The cakes were iced. Food was planned and prepared. My sister and her family arrived and tents went up in the field and still the sun shone. Family and old friends poured in from near and far and the sun poured in too. Dogs poddled about happily, the oldest stuck to my father's side, the next one playing football with older children, the puppy happily eating raspberries and windfall apples. There was much food eaten, games played, the toddler swung backwards and forwards for as long as anyone would push him. A great tide of warmth and friendship washed through the house and garden.
None of my carefully planned cutting garden, all orange and gold, was in flower and I can't say I cared a bit.
And now everyone has gone and the cat is sleeping quietly and the rain is trickling down the window and the whole weekend has a golden light around it.
Lucky or what?
So glad - the weekend sounds wonderful, even if the flowers failed to perform as expected.
ReplyDeleteK
xx
Given me even greater admiration for Chelsea etc exhibitors. I had sown and transplanted and worked at it. Totally bombed in response to period of cold! Not easy at all but what the hell.
ReplyDeleteStill had good time. Another time, if there is one, will accept that you need to move things in and out of cover and can't just stick them in the ground and smile hopefully.
ReplyDeleteThat sounds like a wonderful gathering and I`m sure your garden and the views were a perfect setting.
ReplyDeleteSounds like heaven.
ReplyDeleteI think that sounds just splendid and I do think you are a lucky person and very blessed. No doubt you deserve every wonderful moment of it and you do help create the opportunities for them yourself. I'm very happy for you and glad that it all went so well, even though the cutting garden didn't co-operate :o)
ReplyDeleteI have exactly the feast-or-famine approach to blogging. Were it not so easy to get completely sucked into it to the exclusion of everything else, I might be a more regular participant.
ReplyDeleteYour weekend sounds quite lovely. So glad those Canadians of yours were helpful - after I kidnapped the neighbour's relentlessly barking and lonely dog yesterday to take her for a walk, the owner professed to be more than a little taken aback. 'It's a Canadian thing' I said.
Sounds perfect - and I'll bet that none of your visitors will have noticed the lack of orange and gold in the cutting garden. They will have taken away memories of love and laughter.
ReplyDeleteKnow excatly what you mean about blogging - am looking for my mojo.
Hello back Elizabeth!
ReplyDeleteI agree re blog time. Sometimes life's so full there's never enough time left over to record it.
My recent batch of chicks have grown up with hardly a photo between them!
So glad the weekend was such a success and that the sun shone. Sounds as if the decision to send Henry on holiday was the right one. Dogs & toddlers! Poor boy would not have coped well.
ReplyDeleteGlad you had a lovely time together - and sometimes the calm afterwards is equally nice!
ReplyDeletePomona x
The times that memories are made from. Never mind about the cutting garden, - the important thing is the warmth and delight in each other.
ReplyDeleteLucky, but well deserved!
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean about blogging - it's the first thing to go when time runs out; and you never really catch up, because blog posts are so 'immediate' and somehow reading them days after they were written, you feel you have missed something precious, some special sharing; or at least that is how I feel.
ReplyDeleteYes, visiting friends and family are worth the work. And it's good to get away from the daily grind. Glad you had a good time.
ReplyDeleteI love how you describe your life. And your life seems quite lovely!
ReplyDeleteThat sounds like a perfect weekend, whatever was or wasn't flowering. I know exactly what you mean about blogging. Utterly compulsive when you are in the swing of it, hard to re-engage when life pulls you out of it. Glad you are back.
ReplyDeleteThat all sounded perfect and is what weekends are about.
ReplyDeleteI'm just catching up with 3 weeks worth of blog reading, I have a hundred other things to do but hey, a girl needs to indulge now and then!