It seems that a bit of a tradition is starting where the week before G disappears for Brat Camp I end up laid low in bed with the flu. One week of not really knowing what was going on followed by a week where I felt as week as a kitten. Where the only thing that I could manage to do was put in a few hours at work and then struggle home to hug G and fall into bed to sleep.
But today the sun came out and that always makes me feel so much happier in myself. As though the sun wakes me up and makes me realise that it's time to shrug off the mantle of darkness that I struggle with in the Winter months and realise that Spring really and truly is here and life can begin again.
I sat on my patio this evening with a glass of wine and felt at one and at peace with myself. Surrounded by my garden and my flowers and the peace and quiet with only the birds singing to bother me.
I have new things this year in the garden, these teeny tiny many headed daffodils and some tulips.
Jane's gorgeous tulip pictures made me need to have some this year. And although they are nowhere the magnificence of hers and are a bit raggedy round the edges I am still silly proud of them. I'm still at the stage where I am playing in the garden. I don't know nearly enough and when I speak to M and my Granny I am terribly aware of how far I have to go to catch up with them. Renting means I'm still quite limited in the scope of it all, but bulbs and tubs and pots are lovely for now and mean that I have my cheap and cheerful happiness all around.
















