A Need For ...

Still fighting the lurgy here, though I am feeling so much better than when I last posted. Thank you lovely people for the get well wishes; so very appreciated and comforting when you are feeling yukky - hmm, didn't recover my poetic use of language just yet then.

Being so ill has made me look for comfort in all around me and the somewhat dark, grey days we have been experiencing have added to this need. I finally cut open our tiny Munchkin squash to see whether there was anything to be had from within its hard shell.

It is one we grew in a pot outside the girls' bedroom and though only measuring about four inches across it had a little flesh to add to a rich stew. Comfort food indeed.

All the children have succumbed to poorliness in differing measure, all feeling snuffly, all a little chesty, but nothing keeps a good cook down and Lucy invaded the kitchen yesterday to knock up a batch of flapjacks. How easy things become when you are merely sitting in the background ready to offer help when asked, but no longer needing to actually 'do' every step for them.

Oh, go away Mamma! Get back to your knitting.

Though today is just pouring rain from the skies in a manner that suggests God's bath is overflowing somewhat, I managed to take myself outside on the drier days to see what has emerged. Hurrah! The first buds of bright zingy forsythia are bursting forth, the ridiculously over-the-top yellow threatening to hurt my eyes should the sun ever appear and strike the petals with its rays of light. A true sign that spring is well on its way I think.

I take my coffee and sit on the step, the first time I have done so this year without a coat.

Next to me the daphne also shows an unfurling floret. This is one of my most favourite plants (from a list of thousands); its sweet scent is so typical of many of the late winter/ealy spring flowering plants: fresh, almost citrusy, light & so daintily delicate, yet one tiny sprig is able to scent an entire garden and will tickle your nose when carried on a soft spring breeze. If you have never encountered it I advise you to search one out posthaste - just walk around sniffing the air and you will be led in its direction should one be close by.

On the courtyard the pots of tulips are racing away and I uncover a few buds fattening ready to bloom in a few weeks. I think they are red, though I can't really remember as they were blind last year and so the thrill of discovery is there.

But on a day like today we are all huddled indoors. It is a day for planning and plotting in our garden book, a day for noting what is missing at this time of year, sketching and scribbling notes so that we will remember to do something about the empty patches which are a little depressing just outside the kitchen window. I think planting more snowdrops and sunshine yellow crocus would help things along.

And once the orders are completed I think a little more knitting will be necessary for the rest of the day. I feel a need to huddle by the fire while the rain does its worst, maybe play a sedate game of Mah Jong - hah, that's a contradiction in terms - and let the last of the lurgy hopefully melt far away.

Sound good?

What are you up to? x


P.S. Still not sure about the larger pics - what do you think? x