Finished breakfast, went along to pick up the latest batch of bookmarks (God, I BURN through those...), picked up a few groceries, picked up the mail (nothing exciting), came home.
The garden is full of spring. The damp earth smells of it. The buds are brimming with it - I have five rhododendrons ready to burst into bloom and one did for the first time, today, the yellow one, bless the thing, it's beautiful. The linden tree and the baby chestnut are putting out crisp green leaves. The dogwood is getting ready to bloom. The lily of the valley is starting, the peonies are going to actually FLOWER this year, and this afternoon my neighbour gave me a double handful of forget-me-nots which are now planted down the south-western slope of the house. Oh yeah, and the blackberries are coming up, too. EVERY-bloody-where. Sigh.
I spent the previous day quietly remembering my grandmother, who would have been ninety one yesterday had she lived. There's a hyacinth in a vase in my kitchen in her honour - her garden was full of them, and I have always associated the scent with her. Nearly twenty years gone, and I still miss her. I always will. The hyacinths that pop out every year in my garden - I planted them there for her, in her memory. Happy birthday, Gran. Wherever you are.
My house is quiet now, wrapped in night, warm lights spilling out of windows into the night that is still cool even though it's nearly May. I'm about to go up to bed. There are hours in the day when things need to be done, and I get busy, or frustrated, or annoyed, or frazzled... but every now and then there are moments like this, when I am sitting in my castle and the world outside is beautiful, and I am quietly happy.
Good night, all.
