The Truth


I love those tales of glorious winter gardens, lyrical with frosty mornings.  The cold crisp days are invigorating and inspiring whilst the low afternoon sun caresses the ruddy leaves of Leucothoe “Scarletta”.  Goldfinches feast on hoary seed heads and fluffy bloomin’ bunnywunnys hop past giggling.

Let me tell you the truth, well my truth anyway.  I will begin with a few relevant words to set the mood:  Dank. Wind. Mush. Sog. Dreary. Miserable. Relentless. Gloom.  Any wildlife with any sense is sheltering, not that I could see it anyway as my eyes are full of mud.  Each evening I study the weather report, hoping they have got it wrong.  At night I hear the rain and wind assaulting the windows and wish it to have passed over by morn.  I wake ears on full alert as to what is happening outside.  Invariably my optimism is once again thwarted and I have to make the decision whether it would be fruitful to go to work.

Here is some more truth for you.  Although these are frustrating times, I don’t waste my energy worrying too much about them.  These things are out of my control and there is always soup to be made.  Today it was cauliflower and stilton, and very nice it was too!