I have finally finished my notes for a job I am doing on Tuesday.
Tomorrow, I shall reread them, try to turn them into a coherent narrative. Think of me. It needs to be done, but I can feel avoidance coming on which will only mean a late late night on Monday.
But I may also manage to nip round to the allotments where they are planning a clearing up day. Not that I have an allotment, but I am guilty by association. Octavia is coming to supper. So I need to do something about the less than pritine kitchen and other surfaces, and the muddle of papers that litter every corner of the sitting room. As I typed that I thought I should ask Celia and Charlie if they are about too.
Are you reading this Celia? The menu is lentils and coriander with brown rice. Wine will be drunk. Currently I don’t have a pudding, but it’s possible a cake may be baked. Apple, most likely.
Our own garden is beautiful. In spring the world fills with colour. Stunning, wonderful, transient colour.
I walked away from my work, went out into yesterday’s sunshine and took these:
The tulips we planted last autumn. Where I live was a the site of a nursery famed for its tulips. Mentioned in Anna Pavord’s book, The Tulip, no less. The squirrels had eaten most of the bulbs, so we undertook a Herculean task to plant four hundred new ones. One hundred were stolen, so that made it a bit easier.
I must have palnted a good two hundred. I had a huge blister on the palm of my right hand from my efforts with a not very good trowel.
But the results make that blister worthwhile. And where did the celandines come from? The combination is just delightful. If our cherry tree would explode into blossom I think my heart might burst.
As this seems to fit the week’s photo challenge, I am tagging it ephemeral. To see other ephemeral images click here.