Voltaire

 Oh for goodness sake, America, not again! How very depressing and worrying. 

Well, Voltaire said that the only thing to do was to cultivate one's garden, and I feel he was largely right. 

I haven't had much time - hardly any - to cultivate my garden, but we did have a walk in the Botanics, which was, as ever, soothing and healing to the weary soul. This (yellow) red hot poker - not normally my favourite plant - caught the light nicely. 

And look! it's spring! Well, no it isn't, but this rhododendron is blooming in a very spring-like fashion.

 

The last of the Japanese anemones. 

And another day we went down to Dawyck Botanic Gardens, in the Borders.

The best of the autumn colours were lying on the ground but there were still enough bright leaves and berries on the trees to cheer us. 

The reason I've been so busy is that I've reluctantly become the chair of one of the choirs I sing in. The AGM was two weeks ago, and since then I've been frantically working out what the chair does, and then doing it. There's been a lot to read! Not that any one thing is terribly onerous, but there are a lot of these things, especially as it's a month till our carol concert. I don't know why the AGM is at the end of October, but it's not a good time. Basically you become chair and then people say, "Now it's very urgent that you organise this carol concert and here are the 97 things you need to do," and then when you've done them, you discover that there are another dozen or so of which you were unaware. 

Ah me. I'm glad I'm not running the United States. 

Places

We've had a quiet week: recovering from the visitors and from their departure; changing beds; doing some gentle local walks; putting away the toys; and tidying the garden. We had the Edinburgh family on Friday, which was lovely. Big Grandson is enjoying high school, which is very good.

One of my choirs started this week, which makes it feel like autumn, though the weather is still warm and summery. We walked to the local park, where most of the flowers are past their best but some are still blooming their hearts out. 

And then we walked home along the river. 

At this stretch of it, it's easy to imagine what it was like hundreds of years ago. There are still trees along the bank and lots of little pebbly beaches. Now there are also houses and traffic within a few hundred yards, though it's peaceful enough strolling along beside the water. Once - not all that long ago really - a hundred years or so or a bit more - it was all fields round here. I would love to be able to time-travel back and see it as it was. 

Today we went up to visit Son and family, which was nice. The children are so sweet. I wish they lived nearer, though.  

And Daughter 2 and family are on holiday in Tenerife. Now, that's a long way away. This is the view from their balcony. 

I still feel melancholy after Daughter 2 and her little one's departure, but next week will be busier with various events and I suppose I'll probably start to feel better. 

 

Snowsnowsnowsnow and the virus

We don't generally get much snow in Edinburgh, despite being on much the same latitude as Moscow. But every few years we do get quite a bit, and this is one of these years. The last one was 2010, and then we got snow on and off throughout the winter, which was very memorable and thankfully hasn't happened this year. But at the moment, it's snowy. And I don't like it. It's pretty, but also very inconvenient, especially during this, the schools' mid-term week. Normally we could take the children to the museum or an art gallery or if nothing else a cafe. Now... it's snow or nothing. 

The main roads are all right. 

We do not live on a main road. This is our road. 

This is our garden. 

Our great (Scottish) leader has decided that passengers arriving at our airports from abroad will have to quarantine themselves in a hotel, at great expense to themselves. She hasn't, however, worked out how to stop them arriving in England, which hasn't instituted such a regime, and then travelling up to Scotland. One feels that this may happen.

I went to the dentist up town today. 

It was snowy there too. 

Altogether I'm finding it quite hard to maintain a jolly disposition. It's such a long time since we were able to see our lovely non-Edinburgh families and I see no prospect of this changing any time soon. We're very lucky to be able to see the Edinburgh one - and I'm grateful for that. But otherwise... . This is all a bit rubbish. 
 

Lockdownish week 16 - Friday already

Today we walked to Saughton Park, which was lovely as ever.

The weather was lovely: not too hot, but sunny and warm.

And the flowers are beautiful. But somehow...

I feel slightly... I don't know. As if things ought to be improving more than they are. I mean, Scotland is doing very well Covid-wise, if the figures are to be believed. So things feel almost normal, if you just walk along the street.

But I went to the supermarket this evening and about 90% of people were wearing face masks - which are supposedly compulsory in shops, as from today. It felt very weird. If 2019 me had been transported there, she'd have been extremely surprised. Then, it was only the odd Japanese tourist who wore masks and we thought them most eccentric.

Probably like everyone else, I'm longing now for ordinary life to resume: a life in which we can see our friends, travel down to London to see Daughter 2 and Littlest Granddaughter or go on holiday - or even just have a day out. (Not that I actually want to see London. I'd be perfectly happy never to see it again. I like it even less than I ever did now, since it keeps our dear ones so out of reach. I can imagine taking a train; but a tube? I hate getting the tube at the best of times, but now, with all those people stuck in an airless, potentially germ-laden underground tunnel - I can't imagine.)

Oh, things are perfectly ok here and I really shouldn't complain because we're well, and in many ways very fortunate. But things seem.... just a bit dreary - oh, not even that, really. Frustrating, I suppose. If I were convinced that the easing of lockdown was going to continue and everything was gradually going to get better, it wouldn't be so bad. But it could all start again... .

We haven't seen Daughter 2 and her little one since March. We've seen Son and his little ones only once since then. I feel like an imaginary granny to them.

Lockdown week 4 - Saturday

Today was beautiful but windy. I pruned a pelargonium plant and took cuttings from it, sacrificing this red flower, which I put in a vase. I love the colour, which is slightly more winey than it looks here.

The later daffodils are still blooming. I disapprove of the colour orange and won't have orange flowers in the garden, but one or two daffodils with some orange petals seem to have crept in. Hmm.

But I much prefer this delicate yellow and cream one.

Wallflowers and forget-me-nots. The wallflowers smell beautiful.

We walked up to the school today, and down through the grounds.

There's Ravelston House again, built around 1790. The modern buildings are from the 1960s and rather spoil the view of it, but don't blot it out completely. The house is still in use by the school and is absolutely lovely inside - not huge, but a comfortable family home - or it must have been, once.

All these grounds and quite a bit more belonged to the family. Lucky them.

This is the house from behind, or in fact from in front - this was the main entrance. Before the wood was there, there would have been a splendid view from the windows over to the sea and the hills beyond.

We, and quite a few others and their dogs, wandered through the woods.

Trees and their shadows.

And more.

It was very pleasant.

The trees are variously coming into leaf. 

I wonder if this is a natural cliff, or the result of a bit of quarrying.

And then down the hill, past what I assume was a gardener's cottage...

 
to what's usually a very busy road.

I took a picture of this street for blog-illustration purposes and just afterwards, noticed these people sitting at their front door. I hope they didn't think I was the neighbourhood spy, gathering evidence about ill-advised socialising.

And home we went along Ravelston Dykes, admiring the opening blossoms of the cherry trees. Exactly three miles today, but again, quite hilly ones. We're so lucky to have various nice places to walk.

Then, lots of happy chopping up of fabrics to make a strippy border for the second of the quilts made from my friend's late husband's shirts. I'm quilting the first while piecing the second. I'm such an addict. But it's great to have something to achieve during this strange period. I'm longing to see the family again. I can't see it happening soon.

Come back, 2019; all is forgiven.

Well, that was a long gap between blog posts. We had a lovely visit from Son, his wife, Middle Granddaughter and Little Grandson - seems ages ago now. Son had shaved off his beard because coronavirus masks don't fit snugly enough over beards. (He's a doctor.) He grew it because their children don't sleep through the night, and by not shaving, he doesn't have to get up so early in the morning. I must say I prefer being able to see his face but I'm his mother, so am probably biased. Anyway, here he is communing with his cute little boy, now nine months. Little Grandson has a lovely head of dark hair and the sweetest little smiley face - though apparently not so smiley in the middle of the night.

And then Daughter 2 became unwell and I went down to London to help with Little Granddaughter and am only just back. Here she is, serenading me on the triangle. She is so lovely.

Sometimes Daughter 2 was well enough to come with us to feed the ducks.

They live opposite Epping Forest. You can see how wet it's been down there.

There's the forest out of their living room window.

I took Littlest Granddaughter to a play centre which is fitted out as shops, a doctor's, a vet's, a fire station etc.

And then things became even direr than they were before, as the virus spread.