All change...

It now seems a long time since we returned from holiday. Sadly, if you leave your garden to its own devices for over a fortnight, it grows to such an extent that it takes you the next fortnight (well, hampered by having to watch Wimbledon) to lick it into shape again. (And of course I had to spend lots of time with the grandchildren.)

This, above, is the garden I would like to have. Sadly, it belongs to Mr Life's aunt and uncle. Ah well, it's nice to visit and would take even more work to keep it looking lovely - there's a lot more of it than you can see in the picture.

Luckily, you don't have to wield a trowel when visiting the Botanics.

This is Grandson's End of Roadworks traffic sign picture - there's a red triangle and inside it is a man with a spade, "digging mud" as Grandson says. Then underneath, there's a rectangle with the word "End" in it. If you know the sign then it's fairly recognisable. We didn't know he could write anything apart from his name, but he created this unaided. Clearly a genius. And very interested in road signs.

Yesterday I took the two of them to Dr Neill's garden at Duddingston, a favourite haunt.

Today, excitingly, someone made a good offer to buy their house so unless it falls through (please cross your fingers) they (and their parents) will be on the move to something a bit bigger and nearer a better school. And it's Grandson's fourth birthday today. And, also today, Son and Daughter-in-Law have handed over the keys to their house in Perth, having bought another near Dundee (though they don't get into it till September). Now the search is seriously on for Daughter 1 and Son-in-Law 1 to find a new house. It's all go!

All change

Well, my poor little confused aunt died yesterday morning, aged almost 89, which was in many ways a great relief, since she's been so ill and unlike herself for the past two weeks. Still, it was a shock in a way as these things always are, and there has been the usual flurry of phone calls and arrangements which stop one from fully taking in what's happened.

Although she had become extremely forgetful, until those last weeks she never changed in personality from the stoical and cheerful person she's always been. She was a doctor in Pakistan from 1951 till her retiral and had a very interesting and exciting life. Though married, she was childless because she was unwell as a teenager and had an ovary removed. Then, in a separate operation a few years later, the second ovary was removed by a doctor who didn't read her notes, didn't thus realise the implications of taking out the second one and had a better-out-than-in policy.

Because she became seriously confused only in the last couple of years, I remember her very well as an energetic, matter-of-fact and very capable lady. I hope soon to forget her last days, when she lay in bed looking anxious and bewildered, and touchingly like my dad, her brother, in his last, sad weeks.

I'm not a person who craves excitement. Yet this year:

Son got engaged and is buying a house with his beloved.
Mum's trying to sell her flat and is planning to move in with us.
Daughter 1's having a baby.
Aunt has died.
Daughter 2's settled(ish) in London and getting married to her actor chap in September.

And I'm retiring on July 1.

It's all a bit much. But meanwhile - back to the marking.