Tuesday, 10 May 2016

Saturday, 7 May 2016

As above, so below



I had a modest plan for a patch of tulips under the Magnolia,
that I hoped would mirror the pale pink and white blooms above.

I chose a tulip called Graceland and waited.

Imagine my disappointment when the tulip buds emerged lemon yellow.
There must have been a mix up in the order.
But at least these echoed the yellow leaves which were just beginning to
show as the flowers faded - Magnolias flower on nearly bare branches.


Imagine also my astonishment
as the yellow tulips performed a transformation trick
 fading first to creamy white and then flushing
with pink at the outer edges.


 As the Magnolia petals fell, 
the tulips rose to meet them.
A perfect hand over.




Tuesday, 3 May 2016

The new generation




The sappy snappy tulips are blooming.
The feeble vegetable seedlings have been gently
tucked into their soft beds.


And yes! Here they are! Right on cue.
The latest family of pouncy bouncy fox cubs.
Six of them


eagerly exploring


their exciting new playground.
It is their ancestral home after all.

Tuesday, 26 April 2016

Spring battles on regardless



although it is snowing heavily here.












These scenes, taken from earlier in the week when
it seemed to have got its act sorted.

Friday, 22 April 2016

In passing


Sleep, like this spring, is fitful.


The sun when it appears, lifts my spirits instantly
and I tackle a hundred jobs with gusto.


For the rest of the time,


I am somewhat in a state of suspense.
This summer will bring unwelcome changes
but surely plenty to rejoice in too.



I will return with more tulips and bluebell woods presently
because they must not pass unrecorded.

Speaking of which:
we have an abiding love for Victoria Wood.
We saw her live at the Royal Albert Hall,
and my younger son rather surprisingly learnt to sing all the words to
The Ballad of Freda and Barry with a lively piano accompaniment.
He saw her only recently enjoying a meal in Borough Market with friends
but was too shy to interrupt her.

Friday, 15 April 2016

Moving day




I felt sure someone would want to own this house one day.
I only had to wait twenty five years to get a buyer.

Thursday, 7 April 2016

Henry and me





I am not sure
why I have
a signed photograph
of Henry Moore.

(I found it in my box of ephemera.)

We met his Reclining Mother and Child
on our last visit to Kew.


On an unrelated matter.
How can I possibly be
62?


Perhaps I should now read War and Peace
as Mary Hobson did.
So moved was she, that she started to learn Russian 
while convalescing age 56, so that she could read the original 
and then enrolled at the University of London at age 62
and completed her PhD aged 74.
She won the Pushkin Gold Medal for translation.

Oh and she is now at 89 in training for a 5km run.

Thursday, 31 March 2016

A spring in my step



Hurrah! After my first cough free night since last I wrote
I am ready to take on the world.
Let Spring commence.


The sky is blue today and I am always happiest
when the clocks go forward.




Some of us (like Miss Flora Mc Flimsey)
have already re-trimmed our Spring hats.

Thursday, 24 March 2016

Under the weather



Sickroom daffodils brought to you by A. Hacking-Cough.
So in lieu of a decent springlike post
may I refer you to a post of yesteryear.

Thursday, 17 March 2016

Racing along










This is the torrent of photos
 that was released when the spanner in the blogging works was unjammed.
It doesn't make a lot of sense and doesn't have a neat story
to wrap round it except that this is how spring goes racing along here.


I've been busy making cards
from my old Brooke Bond tea card collection
which wasn't sparking joy but now is,




a cushion for the summer house
from an old curtain ditto,



passion fruit possets,






many more cards,


and looking after this funny little one, 
lately back from New York
sporting the latest in headgear
aka a neck cushion.