What a difference a bit of sunshine makes eh, Dear Reader. Thankfully it hasn’t got quite warm enough for the football shirt / shorts / socks and sandals brigade to be out just yet – but I fear it won’t be long!
I had a lovely (if tiring) weekend with family. My brother arrived on Saturday afternoon with his children, the Other Child and husband and two small people also arrived for dinner so there were 9 of us in all which was lovely. The two smallest people had a sleepover a Nanny’s so that the parents could have a bit of a night out. I have forgotten how nerve wracking it is to be responsible for someone who is only 8 weeks old and I must have got up 50 times in the night to make sure he was still alive! Eventually I decided that him being in bed with my was by far the best option as then I would know by the wriggling and snuffly small animal noises that he was, in fact, perfectly fine. Perfect for him and completely knackering for me…I looked 105 on Sunday but it was wonderful to have them both and small people hugs are still the best by far.
There was an amount of gardening achieved on Sunday and I did the first lawn cut of the year which instantly transformed the garden from a damp miserable space to something that looked infinitely smarter. The only flowers that are out currently are yellow ones. Nothing else, just yellow. From the egg yolk of the Forsythia to the pale Primroses and the many yellow hued daffs there is nothing else of any other colour at all. The Bluebells and Forget me Nots will be along shortly but until then, yellow it is. I have tried, Dear Reader, over the years to introduce other colours but the garden just seems to consume and kill anything new, so after 10 years I’ve stopped wasting money and I just do a few pots instead of interfering with the shrubbery! But despite all this (mono) colour, there are still no leaves on the trees…
So, I fell into bed last night exhausted but pleasantly so. TG and I are nearly 3 months into our enforced 5 month separation and I’m looking forward to him coming back to share it all. It’s all well and good having these lovely weekends, but no fun when there’s no one to share them with on a Sunday evening over a glass of wine.
And what of the week ahead? A milestone that’s what! The Child turns 18 tomorrow and I’m dreading it and the accompanying hangover that he will no doubt have on Wednesday……think of me Dear Reader, think of me.