Outings

Planted some manky looking old amaryllis bulbs and unexpectedly they both flowered.  Lasted about 3 days in the heat.

Not having been in the car or driven anywhere at all myself for ten weeks, I felt it was a kind of treat this week to go on a couple of outings. \None of these outings were 'essential travel' really.  But I made sure I 'stayed alert', as the illuminated roadside sign instruct me. En route to Sheffield via Snake Pass, we drove past huge numbers of parked cars and people presumably 'staying alert' while picnicking in the Pennines.  It is so beautiful there but we didn't stop to join them. We were going to Sheffield to pick up the remainder of Kate's belongings from her rented house.  This was not much fun; she has acquired huge amounts of stuff. And the terms of the contract require the room to be left perfectly clean and empty otherwise they might not get their deposit back. She was told to take a video of the room to prove this. The previous resident of the room before Kate hadn't paid much attention to this as, when we pulled the bed out to clean, we discovered discarded clothing and toenail clippings. Revolting. They've got a cheek these rental companies - when we arrived they'd been fitting a new bathroom and had turned the water off so we couldn't even go to the loo or have a cup of tea.  And yet she's been paying full rent and a fixed amount per month for bills.

Shady dog walk on Duke's Drive

Another more pleasant outing in the car this week was a short journey to the other side of town to walk the dog somewhere shady - like us she's not to keen on heat. Temperatures have soared here in the last few days after a weekend of high winds which nearly flattened my precious foxgloves and poppies. On Bank Holiday Monday we went to the Duke's Drive - a long straight shady path through mature woodlands which eventually, if you walk far enough, leads to Eccleston where the entrance to Eaton Hall, home of the Duke of Westminster can be found.  Anyway, having many entrances, the Duke allows us commoners to use this path and it is glorious.  Right now it is full of buttercups and cow parsley, honeysuckle and butterflies.

And I actually drove my own car one day this week on an trip to B&Q as I 'needed' some more compost, some tomato feed and various other garden essentials. Luckily, Mildred ( the name Kate has given the car) started first time and I hadn't forgotten how to drive. At B&Q, I was greeted by a young man in high-vis vest who informed me that I'd have to queue for at least 45 minutes to get in.   I turned around and left but noticed that the nearby 'Home and Bargain' was open for 'essential' purchases and there was no queue.  I spent an enjoyable half hour there purchasing bargain plants, seeds and bulbs as well as the compost I need to repot my tomato plant. It was fairly quiet and, except for a couple of strips of black tape by the check outs, no different from usual.  I was the only one in there wearing a mask and no one else seemed too bothered about social distancing.  I felt a bit of a prat really - probably wouldn't have bothered with the mask if Paul hadn't wanted me to.  He is still  very anxious about catching the virus.

Another highlight of the last week was a family photo quiz to celebrate my sister's birthday.  That was fun - I dug out old pictures and asked others to guess the date, place etc.  As we are now allowed to see up to six people, I'm looking forward to getting together for real.  We had planned a get-together in Liverpool in July for my sister's 60th but that's unlikely to go ahead now. At least there's hope on the horizon of some kind of meeting ‘

May.....ing

My blog revival has stalled a little.  I had visions of me writing daily posts in lockdown - a kind of online diary.  But that hasn't happened - I'm always too tired at the end of the day - blogging for me is a morning habit - something I do while others are still in bed and the house is quiet. So I'm using a format inspired by Christina to review my May.

More gardening.  There's been a lot of watering to do as, after the very wet winter, there's been hardly any rain in the north west in the last couple of months. My hard work is paying off as the foxgloves and alliums are now in bloom.  I've attempted new things like taking cuttings from dahlias.  And I'm having more success with growing plants from seed. Usually I can't be bothered with all the thinning, pricking out and potting on that's involved but with extra time on my hands I'm getting better at this.







Celebrating two anniversaries last week.  First of all we celebrated VE day with afternoon tea in the garden.  I made a Victoria Sponge with the last of our flour.  It's the only thing that still seems to be in short supply. I had to add a bit of pasta making flour and ground almonds - it turned out ok despite this. Another was the anniversary of the day I first met Paul -  5th May 1984. To be honest I often forget this one and it's him who remembers it; he forgets our official wedding anniversary. Family members have sometimes wondered how we have put up with each other for 36 years.  He is turning into a grumpy old man - everything makes him angry.  He's a lot like Victor Meldrew in the old sitcom 'One Foot in the Grave'.  Or to update the reference, the Ricky Gervaise character in 'After Life'. He really is quite happy to make his irritation with total strangers obvious.  His particular target recently are those who fail to observe the 2 metre distance advice.  On a dog walk last week he shouted at a cyclist riding on the pavement overtaking pedestrians within centimetres.  I cringed with embarrassment but I suspect the mother with the buggy on the pavement was grateful.  He makes me laugh, never lets me down and cooks dinner every night so I put up with the grumpiness. We celebrated by opening a bottle of wine to have with the meal he cooked. Not that the opening of the bottle of wine is an unusual event in this household.

 

Reading  'Wolf Hall' nearly finished. This month's bookclub choice is 'Merivel' by Rose Tremain so I need to get going on that.  I should probably read 'Restoration' first as it follows on from it.  It's not like me to read so much historical fiction but I'm quite enjoying it.  It's filling in some gaps in my knowledge too though I suppose I should check that the fictionalised version of events is actually accurate.

Sleeping surprising well. I'm almost scared to write this in case I jinx it.  Last night I went to sleep at 11, didn't wake until after 8 and can't remember being awake in the night.  I think it's the fact that I'm exercising more than usual, with a long dog walk every day as well as gardening.

Spending time with my daughter who is doing her university course online here rather than in Sheffield.  She's working hard as her exams have been replaced with additional coursework essays.  But there is still time to do other stuff.  We're doing a jigsaw I bought her years ago, making a collage rainbow and watching lots of rubbishy television.  And lots of quizzes. Her boyfriend is still here and he joins in with the quizzes.  He has several useful specialisms in addition to encyclopedic sports knowledge such as Flags of the World and Star Wars.

Watching television. In addition to the reality TV I've been watching with  Kate I am also enjoying 'Normal People'.  And we watched the film 'Hidden Figures' this week -  excellent film about the role of three really smart black women in NASA at the time of the moon landings.

That's it for May so far.  I've quite enjoyed writing this though it seems to have taken most of the day.  Apart from dog walk, watering and one load of washing this is all I've achieved. Oh well - I'm getting used to a slow pace of life.

Garden Helpers

Today (or yesterday now as I am finishing this on Sunday morning) was a gardening day.  Last year we made a few changes to the garden, removing one fence and adding another.  This was mainly because we needed to create a more secure boundary for the dog and a larger space for her to run around in/destroy.   We also removed overgrown leylandii and cut back the thicket of holly bushes.  I say we but in fact the work was done by a excellent local handyman and gardener we were lucky to find. The result is that we have a much larger space as the 'front' (really to the side) and back gardens are now joined up.

Our gardener created some new flower beds in the process and last autumn I read lots of advice in books and planted shrubs, perennials and bulbs.  I tried to co-ordinate a colour scheme and went for shades of pink, whites and purples.  This is how it looked a couple of weeks ago.  The tulips I planted, which were supposed to be in pastel shades and some were a lovely shade of lilacy pink.  But others are distinctly yellow.  Never mind they looked nice anyway,

Today I persuaded Paul, the most reluctant of gardeners, to use some of the left over fencing panels and create a support on the wall and we then planted a climbing hydrangea which promises lovely white lacy flowers.  It's supposed to grow in shady conditions so I hope it does as it's on a wall which faces north east and only gets a couple of hours sun late in the day.

I also tended to my seedlings in the raised bed which has now been placed a in a sunnier spot.  I am trying to grow beetroot and the little seedlings have just appeared.  I earthed up the potatoes I'm growing in a dustbin and watered the lettuces which are doing quite well now after a slow start.

Along with the yellow tulips another unwanted invader to my newly planted border is an armada of Spanish bluebells.  (I'm kind of pleased with that metaphor though I'm sure I'm not the first to use it.)  I love bluebells - the English variety- which I will not be seeing this year unless Boris lets us out very soon.  But these brutes grow like weeds in my garden and I've dug a lot of them out in the past few weeks.  I'm leaving this patch to flower and then will remove them too,  They are pretty for a while but smother everything else.  I'm sure they'll be back next year anyway as it's impossible to get them all.

An

This is the border now.  The tulips are dropping and the foxgloves and alliums are ready to flower.  The giant poppies and sedums are also doing well even though my other garden 'helper' insists on walking all over them.

I can't help thinking how privileged we are in having a reasonable sized outside space during this time.  It can't be much fun for those who are stuck inside all the time with only an hour of 'exercise' a day. 

Blossom Time

Barely knowing what day it is, I'm measuring time passing by observing the changes on our walks.  As we have taken one of two routes every day since lockdown began,  I've watched the trees and bushes blossom in turn. First were the tiny white petals on the blackthorn way back before Easter and the egg yolk yellow of the gorse (or whin bush as we called it in Ireland). Then the glorious cherry blossom on trees in gardens we pass hung in pink or white clouds for a week or so before falling like confetti on the pavements.

 Last week it was the lilac, a huge bank of overgrown trees I never noticed before on an otherwise dull street. It's fading already. The scent last week was powerful; now it's all but gone and the pale purple flowers are going dry and brown.

Today is May Day and peak blossom time. The 'may' or hawthorn blossom is out - thick and heavy on the trees and also delicately scented. And, in the park, laburnum trees with luminous yellow drooping blossoms. And the sticky horse chestnut candles, creamy with hints of pink.  Beautiful even on this chilly showery day.

I slept late this morning, later than I ever have done in years, only getting up just before nine.  This was mainly due to being awake for bit at 4 am which isn't that unusual for me though usually I still get up around 7.  I read for a while 'Wolf Hall' my novel of choice for lockdown.  Thought I should tackle something substantial. I'd like to say I'm loving it but it's more admiration than enjoyment. Though parts are very good, there are too many characters to keep track of and my brain wasn't processing it this morning. I got to sleep again just as the birds were starting to sing.

Apart from a load of washing which has been rained on twice but should now be drying in the sun which has appeared, I have done very little today, my day 'off'  after some online teaching this week.  Just enjoyed the blossom on our dog walk and pottered about the house. Kate also helped me cover my grey roots with some 'Nice and Easy' Light Brown.  It looks ok but is really darker than the packet suggests and all my highlights have disappeared.  At least it'll look better for the Zoom quiz we are doing later on this evening. I find it a bit disturbing looking at myself on screen.

I'm updating this as I attempted to write a poem in sonnet form to celebrate the blossom.  It's not great and I'm almost too embarrassed to put it on here but feel that at least I've done something creative. Anyway here it is:

Blossom Time

Days drift by and time is marked in blossom.

Blackthorn flowers pure white and falls like snow.

Daisies litter grass, and dandelion suns

change to dotted spheres. The child says one o’

clock, two o’clock to tell the time right now

and blows in clouds its strange geometry.

Cherries, dressed in bridesmaid shades of pink, line

the city streets, dropping their confetti.

Now spring speeds all in a rush with richness:

Lilac’s scented stars in spears appear and fade

too soon; chestnut buds unfurl in sticky

cream tinged pink; white, heavy boughs of May.

Nature has no clocks, we need not hear their chime

But live life in the present:  blossom time.

Be careful what you wish for.......

One of our daily walks takes us across Chester Racecourse.  Plenty of space here. 

My life is usually busy. Although my teaching is officially 'part-time' I often find it fills many additional hours. And I have other regular commitments which I've chosen and enjoy - creative writing class, yoga, book club, Zumba, catching up with friends for lunch or coffee.   Then there's the stuff I don't really want to do - the washing of sheets, the sorting of the recycling, the unloading of the dishwasher... Sometimes I've wanted it all to stop, to have days when nothing is planned, nothing much happens, a bit like those lazy empty days between Christmas and New Year.

And now it has. Except, of course, for the stuff I don't want to do. I was quite looking forward to it in some ways.  I'd finally get the garden sorted.  I'd have the kind of neat and ordered house my sister-in-law has.  I'd change the beds regularly, and would vacuum every few days instead of ignoring the clumps of white dog hair which adorn our carpets.  The grout between the tiles would no longer be grubby. There'd be time for reading during the day; I'd walk the dog with Paul the permitted hour every day and get fitter; I'd watch all the Netflix series people had recommended; read the improving literature I'd never got round to....

But somehow it hasn't worked out that way.  Without a structure to the day I've found that time just melts away.  No need to set an alarm so I get up later, drifting about in my pjs until we take the dog out, the only thing I do regularly. Much time is wasted in reading all the coronavirus coverage from the BBC and the newspapers online.  And the attempt to create an neat and ordered house has failed.  I've wiped down kitchen worktops countless times every day, yet still mess persists. In this household with the addition of my daughter and her boyfriend who operate in a different time zone to us, there is always someone preparing food.

I've stopped the constant cleaning up now, and I've also stopped scrolling through news stories and watching the daily update at 5pm.  I watch one news broadcast a day - that's enough. I've also put back a bit of structure with new scheduled activities, discovering as many others have the joys of virtual meetings on Zoom.  So I am doing Zoom Zumba classes on Sunday and Thursday mornings and next week have Zoom book club.  We've been doing two weekly online pub quizzes, competing with family and friends.  Although I have cleaned out a few cupboards in the kitchen and disposed of items which were past their best several years ago,  I've given up any attempt at keeping the house neat and tidy. In general I've ditched the to do list. I do what I feel like doing and feel a bit better.

Next week I will be back 'at work', attempting online teaching.  It looks like Zoom is going to be used for that too. It will be interesting to see how that goes.

'History' by John Burnside and my response

One of the things that I've been doing for the last year when I haven't been blogging is teaching creative writing to a group of adults.  It's a WEA course I used to attend as a student.  When the tutor retired last year, I agreed to take over.  I felt a bit of a fraud, to be honest, as though I've been teaching writing all of my adult life to secondary school children, my own attempts at creative writing are pretty poor especially when compared with the previous tutor who has had work published in local magazines and plays performed in local theatres. Nevertheless, I took on the job as there was no one else keen at the time and I wanted the group to continue.  It's been quite a challenge but has been generally enjoyable.

The last course finished in March, but I'm keeping in touch with some of the group and suggesting some writing exercises we can do in lockdown.  Last week I shared the poem 'History' John Burnside which is actually one I teach on the 'A' Level course.  It's an interesting poem exploring all sorts of ideas about our relationship with the natural world and our reaction to world events at a personal level.  It was written in September 2001, i.e directly after the 9/11 bombings.  The speaker is on the beach with his family, including his toddler Lucas, flying a kite.  He is full of 'muffled dread' about the future and the poem tracks his reaction and thoughts in a kind of stream of consciousness.  He notices how his son is absorbed in the present moment, looking at the rock pools and 'puzzled by the pattern on a shell'.  The poet's message is not entirely clear but he seems to be suggesting that focussing on the moment and perhaps the beauty of the natural world as the child does is a way of responding to the chaos of the wider world.

This is the task I set the group:
Find something from the natural world in your home or garden, if you have access to it.  A flower, house plant, snail.  Look at it really closely, touch it, smell it. Use all your senses.  Then write a poem or a piece of prose based on the experience.

Here is my own brief attempt at a response.

Keeping Orchids

Someone has beheaded my precious orchid.  It sits on the window sill halfway up the stairs in a perfect spot - light but out of direct sunlight.  I have nurtured this orchid - an unpromising tangle of grey roots and dusty green leaves has been coaxed into flower again with a magic spray.  Fat buds are swelling from stems which have now sprawled in all directions, escaping garden centre's plastic confines.The flowers are pure perfection and last for ages with just the right amount of water.  Not to much, let it drain, never let them sit in water - I have learnt through my past mistakes 

But now one perfect blossom lies on the window sill, cut off in its prime by some careless curtain pulling. 

I cradle it in my hand and then place it a crystal liqueur glass, a wedding present never used in 34 years, but a perfect vase for my orchid.  I don't expect it to last.

One week later it is still nearly perfect.   There are five petals,  each white with intricate violet veining,  miniature trees with branches and twigs reaching upwards.  I touch the petals gently: they are surprisingly tough, yet soft and cool as cotton sheets. The two front petals are perfectly symmetrical and shaped like an artist's palette tipped with purple ink spreading in rivulets outwards.  Underneath these, three leaf shaped petals, similarly veined.  In the centre, a white column and three more smaller petals, tinged with yellow, surround what looks like a tiny insect.  The base petal protrudes and is tipped by a triangle and what look like tiny purple whiskers or an extravagant curled moustache. 

 A perfect orchid blossom. An unexpected gift, for I have stared at this beheaded bloom more intensely than those remaining on the plant.

I've done what John Burnside suggests in the poem and concentrated on my orchid and how beautiful it is.  But now it's 5 o'clock and time for the daily update so I'll leave it there...

Back to Blogging

It's a whole year since my last post but there's plenty of time now for a bit of a catch up and a blog revival.  This morning I was supposed to be flying to Palma with my daughter for a short break.  But, like everyone else in practically the whole world, I am at home.

This morning is beautiful - peaceful, sunny and I have a pleasant day ahead: a dog walk, bit of gardening, a Zoom Zumba class and the promise a supermarket delivery to fill our empty fridge. We have our daughter home from university and we are all currently well.  I'm getting used to the new routine and finding ways to cope, but it is tempting to keep checking for online news updates. As no one needs to leave the house for work and we've all been in lockdown for now for over two weeks, apart from very occasional visits to the shop and the permitted daily walk maintaining social distance,  we shouldn't be passing coronavirus to each other.  But I am still a bit fearful.  Should I disinfect the packaging when the shopping arrives as some of my friends and family are doing?  And what about that day when we walked the dog on the canal towpath and were not able to keep two metres apart from passing joggers without falling in the water?

And what right have I to be so fearful when a neighbour and fellow dog walker, who is a nurse at the local hospital, is working long hours helping those who have the virus?  Along with other neighbours we clapped for the NHS on Thursday evening and she thanked us in a post on the neighbourhood  group Facebook page.  I found this little painted stone by our front gate and discovered it had been left there by a little girl who lives nearby. I think she's the granddaughter of our nurse neighbour. Turns out that several of us have been given painted stones.  Good to see the community coming together more, both in this street and the rest of the country.