I've been feeling particularly down for the past few weeks. So much so, that I began to feel afraid of going out of the house. The Gardening Club on Thursday afternoons was becoming an 'ought'. Everyrthing else was too difficult.
On Sunday, I was tempted to stay in bed. I haven't been sleeping well and wake up very shaky and tired. As I was making my breakfast tea, I looked out into the garden. It's looking lovely. The lavender is just coming to the end of its flowering and I thought of cutting some for making drawer liners. As I clipped, I suddenly thought of Eamonn's grave. It would be bare now, as the rosemary and mistletoe I put on it at Christmas would be long gone.
I decided to take some lavender and rosemary to the grave and then go on to walk the Icknield Way beside the lavender farm with Alf. It was hot, but rain was forecast, so I packed tea in a flask and some cold drinks in case it stayed warm.
The Memorial Garden was empty. As I had thought, Eamonn's grave was the only one without flowers. On closer inspection, the flowers on other graves were silk. No wonder the garden was empty - silk doesn;t need replacing.
I put the small posy in the vase and sat on the bench to meditate. I was pleased to see that there was a lavender hedge growing along one side of the garden.
The landscaping is lovely and calm, There was a family of ducks on the pond, Mum shepherding the chicks into the vegetation at the side to hide from this intruder.
I had a good cry, which left me feeling shook, but did some breathing to calm myself before driving to the car park for the Icknield way.
It was very humid when we arrived at the tiny car park, and there was evidence of earlier rain as the pot-holes were full of muddy water. I donned my wellingtons, slung my raincoat and picnic bag across my shoulders, and headed onto the Icknield Way. The clouds looked ominous and I was glad I had my raincoat.
Sometimes, the fields beside the lavender farm are planted with barley, wheat, and (my nemesis) rapeseed. To my delight, the first field was full of flax (linseed). When this flowers, it is a delightfully calming blue, instead of the radio-active yellow of the rapeseed flowers.
As we reached the crown of the first hill, I saw that the picnic bench overlooking the lavender, was occupied. I decided to walk down into the farmyard and have a closer look at the fields before returning to the bench.
Peeping into the edge of the copse before the turn to the farm track, I spotted an early 'Lords and Ladies' (arum lily) just coming out of its seed pod
We walked slowly down the hill towards the farm buildings. I decided not to go into the yard as there was a charge for entry this year, with ticket collection on the road entrance. There is a right of way through the yard, but I am in no condition to argue ramblers' rights and didn't want to spoil my first day out in ages.
Half-way down, we turned back and began the steep climb back to the Icknield Way. The humidity had increased and, before we had gone twenty yards, my knees gave out. I decided to stop and sit on my raincoat, in the shade of the hedge for a quick cup of tea and a bite to eat. Alf was panting heavily and I cursed myself for leaving his water and bowl in the car. The tea was too hot for him, and there was only one mug. However, I did have an apple, a crisp, juicy, apple, which I shared with him as my tea cooled.
Various people passed us and greeted us cheerfully. None was carrying a picnic bag. I hoped that they knew that they would be charged entry to the yard with its refreshments' stall.
This is the view from the hedge beside which I had my lunch.
The rain started just as I finished my second cup of tea.
I packed up, put my coat on and walked, briskly, up the remainder of
the hill. I'd regained my 'sea legs' and headed back to the car at quite a pace. Once home, I showered, dried off Alf, and we ate the remainder of our lunch in the conservatory,
The sun came out for the remainder of the day. Alf and I shared the conservatory sofa for a nap. We both felt much better for our little trip, and I slept well last night, getting in a full eight hours with only two brief wakes for a pee.
On Sunday, I was tempted to stay in bed. I haven't been sleeping well and wake up very shaky and tired. As I was making my breakfast tea, I looked out into the garden. It's looking lovely. The lavender is just coming to the end of its flowering and I thought of cutting some for making drawer liners. As I clipped, I suddenly thought of Eamonn's grave. It would be bare now, as the rosemary and mistletoe I put on it at Christmas would be long gone.
I decided to take some lavender and rosemary to the grave and then go on to walk the Icknield Way beside the lavender farm with Alf. It was hot, but rain was forecast, so I packed tea in a flask and some cold drinks in case it stayed warm.
The Memorial Garden was empty. As I had thought, Eamonn's grave was the only one without flowers. On closer inspection, the flowers on other graves were silk. No wonder the garden was empty - silk doesn;t need replacing.
I put the small posy in the vase and sat on the bench to meditate. I was pleased to see that there was a lavender hedge growing along one side of the garden.
The landscaping is lovely and calm, There was a family of ducks on the pond, Mum shepherding the chicks into the vegetation at the side to hide from this intruder.
I had a good cry, which left me feeling shook, but did some breathing to calm myself before driving to the car park for the Icknield way.
It was very humid when we arrived at the tiny car park, and there was evidence of earlier rain as the pot-holes were full of muddy water. I donned my wellingtons, slung my raincoat and picnic bag across my shoulders, and headed onto the Icknield Way. The clouds looked ominous and I was glad I had my raincoat.
Sometimes, the fields beside the lavender farm are planted with barley, wheat, and (my nemesis) rapeseed. To my delight, the first field was full of flax (linseed). When this flowers, it is a delightfully calming blue, instead of the radio-active yellow of the rapeseed flowers.
As we reached the crown of the first hill, I saw that the picnic bench overlooking the lavender, was occupied. I decided to walk down into the farmyard and have a closer look at the fields before returning to the bench.
Peeping into the edge of the copse before the turn to the farm track, I spotted an early 'Lords and Ladies' (arum lily) just coming out of its seed pod
We walked slowly down the hill towards the farm buildings. I decided not to go into the yard as there was a charge for entry this year, with ticket collection on the road entrance. There is a right of way through the yard, but I am in no condition to argue ramblers' rights and didn't want to spoil my first day out in ages.
Half-way down, we turned back and began the steep climb back to the Icknield Way. The humidity had increased and, before we had gone twenty yards, my knees gave out. I decided to stop and sit on my raincoat, in the shade of the hedge for a quick cup of tea and a bite to eat. Alf was panting heavily and I cursed myself for leaving his water and bowl in the car. The tea was too hot for him, and there was only one mug. However, I did have an apple, a crisp, juicy, apple, which I shared with him as my tea cooled.
This is the view from the hedge beside which I had my lunch.
The rain started just as I finished my second cup of tea.
I packed up, put my coat on and walked, briskly, up the remainder of
the hill. I'd regained my 'sea legs' and headed back to the car at quite a pace. Once home, I showered, dried off Alf, and we ate the remainder of our lunch in the conservatory,
The sun came out for the remainder of the day. Alf and I shared the conservatory sofa for a nap. We both felt much better for our little trip, and I slept well last night, getting in a full eight hours with only two brief wakes for a pee.
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