Z cultivates her own garden

I’ve had to write too many letters of condolence in the last couple of weeks and the one I will write this weekend will be hardest of all.  On top of that recent devastating news, I went to a funeral yesterday; of the wife of a former school colleague.  It was a most beautiful and moving service, with the eulogy delivered bravely and steadfastly by the husband, but I was nearly undone twice: once by the reading being the one from our wedding and once by the second hymn being one from Russell’s funeral.

I came home after the (fabulous) lunchtime tea party at the local Big House and, fortunately, there was a bottle of fizz in the fridge.  LT nobly joined me in a couple of glasses, not that I found it much of a pick-me-up.  I didn’t get maudlin but I was quite low later in the day.

And I am and will be, and will continue to be gentle to myself for quite some time to come.  My usual resilience is at a low ebb, for a number of reasons.  Nothing to do with the family – we’re all well and happy and nothing is wrong there.  I’m happy with my darling Tim and simply feel oppressed by too much going on that’s outside my influence.  It feels nowhere near as bad as it has been at various times over the past couple of decades and it will pass.  All the same, I will spend a few days writing down, as I have sometimes in the past, good things, to channel my thoughts to the positive.  Today’s …

  • Lovely new potatoes and swiss chard from the garden for dinner – with lamb chops, which LT kindly cooked.
  • Mona the bantam ate out of my hand yesterday.  She bosses around the little girls, so they daren’t. Crow the cock wanted to but didn’t quite have the nerve.
  • The cattle are back on the meadow.
  • I played the organ this morning, the first time for months.  It went surprisingly well.
  • I haven’t broken a fingernail for at least ten days.  Since I have probably the weakest nails of a healthy person that can be, this is very good.

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