Living things

Well, we've had a fairly nothingy week - thank you, Covid. Not that I was ever particularly unwell - just a lot of nose-blowing and coughing, and I'm now ok again - thank you very much, medical science. I had to postpone various social engagements, but none of them was particularly one-off, so will be just as good in a week or two. Except, that is, a visit to Daughter 2 in London. I had booked the train - I usually go on a Friday, but the train drivers were on strike on Friday so I opted for Thursday at 9am. And on Wednesday I was still faintly positive, so had to make the decision not to go. And of course, on Thursday morning I tested negative. I was so disappointed: I could have gone. With missing Daughter 2 so much, it's a bit like (as a teacher) pacing yourself to the end of term. When that comes, you feel as though you couldn't possibly manage another day; though you probably could have, if you'd always known there would be another week of term. So I felt that I couldn't possibly bear not seeing her and Littlest Granddaughter for another day - even though we've not seen them since the end of December, and they're coming up next weekend. The same, of course, applies to Son, but he's not so far away. 

One good thing about not seeing various friends that week was that I spent much of three days in the garden and got most of the late-winter tidying up done. My garden, though not large, is quite labour-intensive, which is entirely my fault because it's mainly planted in herbaceous perennials, which need to be cut down every year, thinned out from time to time and so on. When we come to sell the house, the garden will probably be marketed as "easily-maintained" because it's quite small. (Hollow laugh.) Anyway, my three-day marathon resulted in my being somewhat crippled - the arthritic hip really didn't appreciate all that kneeling down and standing up again. Still, it makes me feel much better to see it tidy, and there are snowdrops and crocuses blooming and lots of other bulbs showing through the soil. 

On Wednesday we had our first outing, to the Botanics, because it's outside (obviously) and I was in less pain by then. This was good for the soul. 

Trees...

and rather more snowdrops than in my garden

and their first rhododendron to be flowering this year. 

At home, it's the time of year for the amaryllis forest. I took three pots of them to church a few weeks ago for other people to adopt, but the four remaining pots are still too many. I must do the same thing next year. The timing is crucial, I feel: there need to be flower spikes showing or no one would want them, but these mustn't be too tall or they're liable to break on the journey. I should really just throw the plants away after flowering and buy another one next year for £9.99 or whatever, but never have the heart. 

This sort of thing is also the reason why I keep more fabric scraps than I will ever use. 

We saw the Edinburgh Two yesterday. So that was lovely. Big Grandson is now taller than I am. A fortnight ago, pre-Covid, he wasn't!

Today, when I couldn't be with Daughter 2, we went up to visit Son and his family, which also consoled me. We had to cancel a visit to them last Saturday because of Covid. We went to the small zoo near them, where a couple of marmosets were extremely interested, for about ten minutes, in Middle Granddaughter's toy cheetah. They really stared at it and you could almost hear them saying: "What is that?" Middle Granddaughter was very intrigued. 

And they had a lovely time in the playpark. And then we went back to theirs and I handed over their quilts, which they seemed to like. So that was a good day. I'm grateful for all those lovely descendants. And not being dead. And living in a peaceful place.