Little Lion

For once, our grass has not been razed to a millimetre of its life the moment spring has sprung. Thee result has been a tufty, springy, green space with a number of wild flowers. I love it. And I am not the only one. MasterB is enjoying lurking in the long grass; his eyes follow the birds and the bees.

Continue reading


Healing Plants

Nature is very healing. Even when it’s cultivated.

Mother used to spend hours in the garden.

She always maintained it helped her clear her thoughts. She weeded and planted. Looked out at her garden from the kitchen and dining room windows and smiled.

Our dachshund used to weed with her; dutifully digging small holes next to where Mother was working. Mother would fill them in and they’d move on to the next patch.

It was their private time.

The honeysuckle which disguised the washing line post was always an overgrown tangle because the blackbirds nested in it.

I don’t do much gardening these days as I have a shared garden. But I am in it frequently, chaperoning Not Cat.

2011 hasn’t been my favourite year so far, as those of you who follow this blog regularly will understand. Mother’s increasing frailty, her current hospitalisation and the uncertainty around her future, Cat’s death, don’t add up to a time of smiles and joy.

But there have been, and are, good things. Cat’s twelve days at Mother’s as she hovered between life and death when he charmed and comforted, all unknowingly, everyone at the scheme; the arrival of Not Cat and my gradual falling in love with him; Nephew and Niece-Out-Law’s engagement; hollyhocks. Continue reading