Beginning of May is not the time to move. For the eight years that we've lived here, we've both put a lot of effort into the garden. We've planted a Wisteria up against the house, adorned the beds with loads of different types of Peonies, planted Alliums, Poppies, Lupins, Delphiniums, etc.. and they are all going to bloom just after we leave. I realise that I've seen them all bloom before so I won't have missed the sight to behold that they are, but it's just that last time I saw them bloom, I had no idea it would be the last time.
Is it SO middle aged to be worrying about the garden that you are leaving behind? I mean, Christ Alive, I don't even really like gardening and begrudge the whole time spent weeding, planting and then weeding again. But I do love sitting in a good garden and I do love cutting flowers from the garden to have in the house... and that really is being middle aged. When did that happen? When did my perspective change from being wild and dangerous and wanting to go fast, to appreciating a well set out flowerbed of an English garden and enjoying identifying the different types of bird song? Answers on a postcard, please.
We're heading down to Cornwall today to start to move into our rental and I have to say, I'm really pleased we are. I'm having a real wobble. It's just such a beautiful morning here and the garden is SO pretty. I walked the dog this morning across the rec and the smell of freshly cut grass greeted our nostrils and the promise of long summer days held heavy in the air. I need to reaffirm that Cornwall has all of those things too.. beautiful mornings, the promise of things to come.. I know it has, but I need it to show me one more time.
I'm also slightly down about my birthday. At the age of 53 (54 next week), I should, of course, be more grown up about birthdays and realise that sometimes, events, such as moving, take over so my birthday is not the centre of attention. The grown up side of my brain acknowledges this... unfortunately, though is is drowned out by the child like whining that comes from the other side of my brain which screams... 'I wanna drink champagne on the beach and have a long lunch with all of my friends and get loads of presents and feel like a princess..'... that side of my brain is a complete spoiled brat who I am not overly proud to be a part of me. Nevertheless, she is there and without her I fear I'd probably be quite dull. As a result, I am trying to let the mature side win and try and embrace the realisation that it will be a weekend of unpacking and quiteness.. which, of course, is fine!
So, here's to a garden about to go BOOM and a birthday weekend that will quietly deflate.. I will enjoy it all regardless.
(If you need me I'll be drinking champagne on the beach with the dog)
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