welsh hills again

My son and his wife and their dog are here for the weekend.  We haven't seen them since before Christmas as they are newly qualified doctors (not the dog obviously, she has been qualified for years) and are working very hard. My crocuses are out by the drive, in shades of purple and lilac with here and there a shining shot of pale yellow. I made some of the best cheese scones ever for tea. I ate three. I have no time to blog because I need to go and talk to my family. Bliss.

Yesterday I woke and was instantly awake.  Most mornings I drift in and out, slowly shaking off the fuddle of sleep but yesterday I was right there with my eyes wide open and the clock saying eight.  I realised it was because I was going somewhere: a visit to Karen at Artist's Garden over on the west coast of Wales, a visit that has been postponed and postponed as things fell about our ears.  I felt slightly guilty, leaving Ian with FIL for the day and lots of jobs to do and for no other reason than that I wanted to see her.   I'm not a great one for feeling guilty so it slightly surprised me.  When I took it out and looked at it I found that it was weeks and weeks since I had done anything which wasn't focussed on someone else: looking after my FIL, visiting my brother, worrying about how my mother is coping, wondering about whether Ian is doing too much.  And yesterday I was saying that despite all those concerns, I was just going to get into the ca...