Saturday 14th July. Now that date rings a bell. Something or other is going on. Don’t tell me, it is on the tip of my tongue. Oh yes, Six on Saturday. That wonderful meme hosted by the indomitable Mr Prop. But there is a niggle that I might have forgotten another important event. Silly me, it is the 229th anniversary of the Storming of the Bastille. Always good for a knees up. However I’m not sure, there is a nagging at the back of my mind, an inkling that there may be something else I should be celebrating.
How could have I forgotten?! It is Peggy’s, AKA My Best Mum, 90th birthday. Don’t worry, it won’t get mushy. Or only a little. I can’t help myself. And don’t think this going to be a “my mother used to grow these in the garden of my childhood, whilst I frolicked amongst the sweet peas”, she barely knows the difference between a daff and a dandelion. Truly, sometimes I wonder if she is my real mother. Then I look at my fat calves, remember my propensity to blush at the drop of a hat and my compulsion to talk to absolute strangers on public transport, and I know that there is no avoiding it, we are truly related.
As the reason that I do this blog is the fault of the self said woman, it would be remiss not to celebrate, however tenuously, through SoS. A meld made in heaven. Or should that be Heavens. Once Peggy told me “I have been very lucky, I have never wanted diamonds, pearls or fur coats”. That is true. And this is another thing that I have inherited. Just as well really, because they were never coming our way. For this special birthday she has been very strict, she doesn’t want anymore “stuff”. What could be better then, than a Six on Saturday dedicated to you?! My first gift is a sunflower, could you get any richer and more radiant than this Ruby Queen? A jewel of the finest kind.
My second gift is an agapanthus, just considering blooming, strung with gossamer. Or spider’s webs for the unromantic amongst you. A classic seaside plant, my Mum loves the coast with a passion. When she stays at our house, my first job of the day is to take her a cup of tea in bed. I draw back the curtains and we sit and watch the boats and chat and all is well in the world.
The third plant is a Salvia viscosa, an adorable little sage, grown from HPS seed. Not the most extravagant of flowers, but it has a delicate charm that is as worthy as any other. My Mum will chat with a Hells Angel or a Duchess, a tramp or a Queen, and she treats them all equally and with respect. All are enchanted.
The next present is Fuchsia ‘Thalia’, which has toughed it out through freeze and swelter. My Mum is from Yorkshire. Let me translate for you – she tells it how it is, although years away from home she has alway remained a straight talking northerner. This sometimes smarts, but is invariably for my good.
My next offering is a hydrangea, strangely blue this year, which I am guessing has something to do with nutrients being available in the drought. But I might be wrong. My Mum loves singing and is always quick to break into song. At any time. Which can be a little embarrassing. But remember, she is from Yorkshire, and quite frankly doesn’t care! This flower has nothing to do with singing, or any song I can think of, but it is still a pretty gift.
Lastly we have Daisy the cat, warming her belly on the baking bricks. My Mum loves animals and they love her, as do I. Nearly got slushy then. She is my mentor, my best friend. She keeps my feet on the ground and my head in the clouds. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Happy birthday Peggy from Your Bestest Daughter!!!