Not good, but getting better

 I can't quite believe it's April already. Snowdrops have finished flowering. Daffodils have taken over in gardens and parks. Forsythia is blossoming against a (sometimes) blue sky. Tulips and magnolias are getting ready to move us on to the next mood of Spring. Where did the last three months go? Usually when time disappears like this it's because I've been busy but this time I feel like I've idled them away, though really it's been a period of rest, illness, and recuperation.

The year didn't start well with a fall down the stairs on New Year's Day. Nothing serious but my ankles were strained and required rest. Resting unfortunately impacted the rest of my fitness levels so when my ankles felt up to walking, my legs had become unaccustomed to the idea.

But I started small and by the end of February I'd worked my way back towards a reasonable distance (7000 steps). Then I fell foul of Covid. It didn't last long, wasn't severe, but it exhausted me, and I'm still struggling with a range of problems - tiredness and the inability to focus on tasks for long being the worst - and which, added to my general lack of mobility due to my ankle problem, have left me feeling old, overweight, and unfit.

Fortunately my elder daughter sent a link to an NHS website about Covid recovery, which explains that fatigue, low mood, inability to concentrated are all common post-viral symptoms. They should pass. Fingers crossed. And it helps a lot to know that what I'm feeling is normal.

I'm not going to leave it totally to chance though. I've heard so much about the possible long-term effects of Covid but don't feel they're things I can do much about. What I can do is make a commitment to getting fitter (and thinner), so that I face any future problems (or another bout of Covid) in good health. 

It's small steps at first, more about mindfulness and relaxation - feelgood things like a delayed Mother's Day family get-together, getting outside if possible, enjoying a potter round the garden, talking to the seedlings in the greenhouse, taking a short walk to see daffodils, or just noticing the vase of picked flowers currently in front of me as I type - but also trying to increase my daily step count (currently at 3000). April's arrival seems to have marked an upturn in the weather, it's my birthday soon (65!) and I'm hoping the two mark an upturn in my health. 

Midsummer

Here we are, halfway through the year, basking in the sunshine 

yet starting on the count down to Christmas!

For now, at least, the weather is perfect, and it's time to slow down a little and appreciate the moment. I'm finding time to laze around in the garden, admiring my un-cut lawn cum mini meadow, smelling the roses, letting the laundry blow gently in a breeze.

 Both garden and allotment are starting to be productive - peas, beans, potatoes, blackcurrants, and radishes from one; sugarsnap peas, rocket and land cress from the garden; strawberries and lettuce from both. It's that fun time when home-grown harvests are a delight, rather than the processing chore they'll become in a few weeks.

It's not quite all lazing about though. I walked up to the wood to pick elderflowers for fizz, and chopped garden mint for (perhaps obviously) mint sauce. 

The garden apples trees are in the middle of their 'June drop' when tiny fruit litters the ground allowing bigger better one to remain and grow on the tree. And I was delighted to spot this more unusual fruit - the first quince on my tree. Several years ago I was given some quinces, and saved the seeds, from which this tree grew - so it's truly homegrown fruit. 

On Midsummer itself we went out in the late afternoon to find this stunning field of poppies high on a Derbyshire hillside. Aren't they wonderful?

And I picked a bouquet of slightly-wild flowers from my garden - foxgloves, grasses from the lawn, feverfew, sage, and the first sweet pea. 

Good, quiet ways to mark the turning of the seasons.

 

Gardeners' Sheds at Calke

One of the things I love about Calke Abbey is that the National Trust have preserved not just the run-down stately home, but the potting sheds and garden 'offices', which capture a glimpse of the gardeners' lives and work

The paint may be pealing, an odd bit of glass missing, and the roof overgrown with moss but spades, hoes and rakes are neatly stacked against the walls, and the drawers have labels showing the seeds kept there. 

It's easy to imagine that the gardeners have just put down their tools at the end of the day, and now headed home.

Obviously I've an interest in all things gardening-related, (and although much tidier these sheds remind me of those at my childhood home) but to me it's important that the lives of ordinary men and women are as treasured and preserved as those of the folks at the 'big house'.

 

Pick-me-ups required

 Last weekend the house was full, if not overflowing, with family here for a celebration. Such times, particularly at the moment, always lead to an anticlimax. The days afterwards always seem as flat and hollow as this disaster of a birthday cake, while I struggle to get back into my everyday routine.

It's a bit like empty-nesting all over again, feeling in need of a pick-me-up, and trying to work out how to spend my time.

The weather hasn't helped. There's been unpredictable rain most days - the forecast's seem to be really inaccurate this summer. predicting dry days which turn out wet, and wet ones which inexplicably turn out dry   - making it impossible to plan days out. So it's been an 'at home' week. 

This is when I appreciate having a garden - I'll wander outside and, even if I'd not intended gardening, something  that should be done will catch my eye. There are always weeds to uproot, a plant fallen over the path that ought to be cut, or a few blueberries that need to be picked. 

 Or perhaps, rain permitting, I'll just sit and watch butterflies among the buddleia and goldenrod, or the antics of the poor unmaternal pigeon carrying out nest repairs while the chicks coo inside it.

The constant stream of vegetables brought home from the allotment by my husband  also keeps me busy. The freezer is already full with cauliflowers and broad beans, but the courgette glut continues, with the search for new exciting ways to eat them (piccalilli is my latest idea), and now runner beans are starting to crop.

On quiet days, while my husband's occupied at the allotment, I've turned my thoughts to an on-and-off art project that I'm trying to make more time for. A couple of years ago at Melbourne Festival I discovered artist Helen Hallows, and I've joined a sort-of online art club she runs. I'm frequently talking about doing something creative but never seem to keep up the initial impetus. Before the pandemic, I'd been thinking about taking part in one of her 'real life' courses, and i'm still toying with the idea of an on-line course, though I worry about my intermittent application. Meanwhile, Helen's prompts and sharing of images help give me focus and direction, and encourage me to do something, even if only doodling, every day. 

I've also started planning ahead in vague ways. Firstly, once the August rush is over to go to the seaside, and a grander sort of plan of what I might do (coronavirus etc permitting) to markthe run up to my 65th birthday. For my 60th I tried to do sixty new things and I'm looking at a similar idea - new places to go, new things to see, and if I do it in the run-up to my birthday I'll be starting next Spring! Time to put some ideas together.

For a final pick me up for the week, I thought a little treat from the online sales was in order - now I just need some sunshine to be able to wear my new purchases.

Jottings - 21st February - Spring is in the air

 After last week's freezing temperatures, Spring has arrived with a bound. Or, at least, in comparison it seems that way. 

In the garden, the snowdrops are now fully in flower, and the crocus trying to catch up

My first pot of daffodil bulbs has died back but a second had buds showing, so I brought it inside and within days had bright cheery flowers on the kitchen windowsill.  There's nothing quite like a splash of yellow to liven up the last weeks of winter.

Being able to get out and about doing useful things in the garden is such a help when I can't go anywhere else, so with it being so much milder this week so I've been busy in the garden. I tidied last year's dead growth up so the snowdrops can be seen, and started to sow seeds; some rather late sweet peas (they can be set in November) but hopefully they'll catch up, plus mizuna for spring salads, and cauliflowers and leeks to be grown on down at the allotment. I should be setting tomatoes and chillies now but I don't want to have windowsills filled with plants that can't go outside because of late frosts, so they can wait a little while.

This, plus the hope of news of lockdown easing, has made this a brighter week. Maybe it's just the lengthening days but there seems to be an air of hopefulness around. 

My husband's birthday fell towards the end of the week, and we decided to try an online escape room game with the rest of the family. It was puzzling and perplexing, but between us we managed to 'escape' in just under the hour it was expected to take. I rather wish I'd discovered these games earlier, but it proves my theory that even in lockdown there are opportunities for trying new things.

Here we go again - another lockdown

 

It's not the best way to start the new year, is it? Being told to stay home, only go out for essential food and exercise, don't meet up with more than one person ... The weather has chosen to be contrary with tempting blue skies, though it's awfully cold, and, if I'm being told to stay home some snow would be nice.

I thought and hoped that the drastically curtailed Christmas would avoid a complete lockdown, but, no, it seems like things are totally out of control. I feel like we almost may as well have had the five day Christmas after all. 

I'm not much affected by it to be honest. I don't have work to go to or children to care for. Over this last year I've certainly got used to staying in and pottering round the house. But, I'm finding it harder this time. Partially I think because there's no fixed limit to this lockdown, and because having seen family at Christmas I'd got used to having people around again. 

I'd half-expected this would happen though, so I'd planned diversions of sorts - joining in with #12DaysWild, trying out my culinary skills with Veganuary, 

and luckily my daughters bought things for me to do among my Christmas presents (pretty wool and scarf-dying kit). 

I'm going to make the most of clear skies and my allowed daily exercise, and try to catch the sunset most days.

Soon it will be time to think ahead and start sewing seeds for a productive allotment and pretty flower garden, and before long the snowdrops will be flowering. I'll be kept busy - and that, I think, is the best way of getting though this.

#12DaysWild

 I knew the post-Christmas period was going to be difficult, having been only able to meet family for such a  short time, so I'd planned ahead for a variety of things to occupy my thoughts.

First up was the Wildlife Trusts' 12 Days Wild initiative. Like the longer summer-based version, it encourages people to get outside,  make 'wild art', take notice of wildlife, and perhaps help them in some way.

Obviously summer is a more appealing time to get outside, but, from rushing out in my dressing gown to break the ice on the bird bath on frosty mornings to filling seed feeders, there are still things that can be done - I even made a tiny snowman!

Since Christmas the weather has been clearer but much colder, with spectacular sunsets. Some evenings I've been tempted out for a walk, some I've just looked from the warmth of home.

There are always regular avian visitors to the garden - robins, an occasional blackbird, a flock of long-tailed tits, and the resident pigeons - but the cold weather has brought more to the garden - half a dozen blackbirds feasting on rowanberries, both blue- and great- tits, a couple of goldfinches, and a flock of small birds high in the bare branches of a wild cherry which I couldn't identify.

We've missed most of the snow that's covered the rest of the country, both north and south of us, but enough fell one day to cover the lawn - it didn't last long though. 

One day we took a muddy, icy, slippery walk to the wood where I spotted hazel catkins opening (I also thought I'd seen a fox, but that turned about to be a spaniel chasing about) but for the most part I've spent these 12 days at home, checking on the Christmas roses, and the shoots of daffodils and snowdrops.

 I know these aren't strictly speaking 'wild' but snowdrops particularly mark the end of winter, so I'm eager to see them appear each year. I've decided this time to lift a few bulbs and fill some pots to bring some spring cheerfulness to my windowsills early. 

Jottings 5th December - looking forward

 Last week was a bit of a rollercoaster. This week was definitely on the up.

It feels like suddenly there are things to look forward - a relatively normal family Christmas, a covid vaccine, and hopefully a normal summer next year. I hope it isn't too long before things settle back to their old routine, but even if it takes a while, I feel that now things are moving forward, rather than us just having to hide away.

I always start thinking about Christmas far later than most people seem to. All the neighbours have got their festive lights up (I haven't), and probably all their present-buying finished (I've hardly started!). 

To get the Christmas vibe going, we headed out to Chatsworth on Tuesday, the only really dry day. The House was due to open in its Christmas finery this week, but the local Tier 3 restrictions have called a halt to that. The gardens though are still open, with an illuminated trail leading around various Christmassy features.

Other than that day out, it seems to have been a quiet week with not much happening. Other areas, even parts of Derbyshire, have had snow but there was no such excitement here. Just a lot of cold, damp drizzle interspersed with rain.

Despite that I'm trying to keep up my evening walks, muffled up in scarves and heavy duffel coat, as I've come to appreciate this short time outside before settling down for the evening with my knitting.

In a brief dry spell at weekend I nipped into the garden and clipped some flowers and foliage. The winter jasmine is looking really good this year, with all of it seeming to flower at once rather than higgledy piggledy from now to February, but because of its position against the house walls it can't be seen from inside. It's lovely and cheery though and helps brighten up these dull months, plus remind me that, as Shelley wrote, "If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind".

Looking forward to winter?

Today is a bright sunny day. Blue sky is appearing from behind the clouds, and it looks like an excellent day for getting outside walking or gardening.

But winter is on the way. With its short days and bad weather, it's never the best time of year, and with the renewed threat of coronavirus, and possible disruptions to whatever we might have planned for Christmas holiday season it's looking more depressing than usual. 

By now I would normally have a number of evenings out planned at gigs or the theatre (summer is off-season as bands do the rounds of festivals, and theatres take a break) but even the limited socially-distanced events I've seen advertised don't seem all that appealing, and I don't want to risk booking anything for spring as who knows what the situation may be then. 

It's time to face it - this winter is going to be one spent at home.

Time I think for a cunning plan, or at least to find ways to make the time pass in a not-too-dismal fashion. The thought of curling up under a blanket with a box-set running on TV is tempting, but having something to focus on and achieve - from creativity indoors to exercise outside - is essential for me; it stops me worrying constantly about the pandemic and its effect on all our lives.

Outdoors, I'll be spending time in the garden whenever possible; at the moment there are apples to pick and trees to trim, so I'm occupied out there while it's fine. There won't be so much to do as we head into winter, but shortly into New Year seed-sowing for flowers and veg starts again, and as soon as we reach February I'll be searching the flowerbeds each day for the first signs of snowdrops.

Having got back a reasonable level of fitness (after the laziness of early lockdown), I want to maintain, and even improve, it. I'm trying to get my step count higher each week, so I'll be trying to keep up one day out walking each week, weather permitting. For the past couple of years Zoe at Splodzblogz has been challenging herself and her followers to get outside for an hour each day throughout November. I joined in last year, even though I didn't manage to do it every day, and again it's one of those things to give focus to the days. I'm not sure if she's intending to do the same this year, but I'm going to try anyway. 

Obviously at this time of year indoors can frequently seem more appealing than out, and I'm planning to take time out for 'me time'. Not the soaking in a candle-lit bath vibe, but things which absorb my attention and make a little semi-creative bubble in which I can lose myself.

I've rediscovered my clothes making mojo during lockdown. I was trying anyway to do a combination of buy no new clothes and use up the stash, so it fitted well. I've finished a couple of skirts, am in the middle of another, and, as I still wear trousers more than skirts, I'm thinking of taking some old, relegated to the back of the wardrobe, long floaty skirts in brushed cottons and turning them into tops. For evenings in front of the TV, I'm starting to plan ahead what I might use from from wool stash to make cardigans/jumpers for winter. I'm still making a summer one in cotton (!) but need to move onto warmer things soon.

Over the past few months, I've also revived my interest in cooking - prompted by the intermittent gluts of produce that come from the allotment. Earlier in the year we had an unprecedented surplus of cauliflower (a lot ended up in the freezer). More recently there's been an abundance of kale, and I've enjoyed finding new ways to use it - from stir fries to soups to chilli. Looking through recipe books and sorting out the numerous recipes cut from magazines keeps me occupied in itself, even without the end result of dinner. I've found myself starting to plan meals several days ahead (something I hardly ever do) and trying something new at home seems like a better idea at the moment than eating out. Over winter there'll be less allotment produce, but the stored apples, pumpkins, and beetroot will be looking for innovative ways to be eaten. And, way behind the trend as always, I could even start a sourdough culture.

One of my resolutions this year had been to find time for something creative, and at last I've organised myself enough to do it. I'd hoped to be able to join a 'real' art group or take a short course or two but neither is possible with coronavirus. Instead I've joined an on-line art group which is giving me the necessary 'push' I needed to take up pencils and scrawl, and also to allow myself time to do it.

In many ways this feels like setting out New Years resolutions. I'm hoping all these plans will give me something to focus on over the coming months, instead of feeling cooped up, waiting impatiently for spring.

30 Days Wild - week 4 (and a bit)

I'm late getting round to writing up this last week of #30DaysWild because it's been a busy out and about week, though most of my wild adventures still took place in the back garden. There are new flowers opening to attract bees and other insects - lavender alongside the path, calendulas, and the first flowers on a root of fox and cubs which I moved from my parents' garden.






















There've been wild visitors of all sizes from magpies at the bird bath to a shield beetle who thought I looked like a good place to rest. One warm evening I spotted bats flying about the garden- which was exciting but a bit worrying as I thought they might fly in through the open patio doors (this happened to me once in a holiday cottage, and it's terrifying for both the bat and the person trying to persuade it back outside). A safer sighting was of a swallow (I think) high above the roof top.

On my trips out I saw glorious wildflowers among more formal bedding at Kedleston, Chatsworth and  Calke Abbey

But this was favourite thing of the week - a coot making it's nest in the middle of an ornamental pond at Chatsworth.