The amaryllis is on its last legs but still strangely beautiful, especially close up. I met one of my neighbours on the stairs this evening, and was surprised when she said three times how much she loved the amaryllis . Now I am wondering what to plant there for the summer. Your suggestions are welcome..
Here is my amaryllis, delicately transparent in its dying:
I used my little Olympus for these photos. I do love that camera! Is it hideously disloyal of me to think of trading in my lovely Lumix G1 for a G3? I could keep both, but I have a feeling one of them would be left lonely in the cupboard.
There will be more amaryllis photos as the other one is sending up a green spear. Flowers growing are an every day miracle. Why aren’t we more amazed at what they do?
Last night was the penultimate poetry class. I have, contrary to my expectations, really enjoyed it. I am not sure how to feel that my most successful classroom oeuvres have been a reply to an unwelcome Lothario and another one about Hello magazine headlines, and I am pretty sure that Carol Ann Duffy won’t be reading my stuff and praising me on Front Row. However, I am thinking of buying the teacher a decent bottle of wine and giving him a card to say thank-you, and that is something I have never ever done at the end of a course in the whole of my adult life. Go Sean!
I’ll have a double reason to feel sad; the 20th March is the second anniversary of Cat’s death. Two years. Yet thinking of him still brings tears, as does looking at his photos. I didn’t expect this. No I didn’t expect it at all.