I love weekends. I love weekends when the sun is shining and the birds are singing and I am pottering about in my garden barefoot even more.
For some bizarre reason, I have woken up for the past 2 days at 5am, and then been unable to go back to sleep. On the weekend. Ridiculous. So yesterday, I decided to go and do the food shop early. And then I went to the garden centre to get my plants, and discovered that they do not open until 9. So I spent a useful three quarters of an hour twiddling my thumbs in the car park. But my plants and I were soon whizzing back through the valley, avoiding all the walkers on a Big Walk around the local countryside. This is an annual event, and lasts all weekend, and it does make driving a little more challenging because there are no pavements (sidewalks) on some of the roads. But the sun was shining and the birds were singing, and I had plants and food so that was good. I also managed to avoid mowing down any walkers.
I love having all the doors and windows wide open in the summer months, and the whole house seems to sigh with satisfaction as the warmth seeps into it, with the scent of freshly cut grass and my lilac in the air. This year I bought geraniums, fuschias, million bells and petunias, and some Cape daisies. I have planted all my hanging baskets and tubs, and have repotted some plants, and I have prepared the pots for the tomatoes which are shooting up in my kitchen as I speak. And peppers. And outside I have trays of beans and cauliflower on their way too. I also planted beans in the pots which have trellises (that looks a little odd!) so they can grow here in the garden as well as on the allotment. Everything is growing and shooting up and soon there will be buds on the roses and they will start blooming.
My washing dried in minutes outdoors, and then I decided to have a BBQ in the evening. A couple of my friends came round, I cooked our feast, and we sat out in the garden chatting all evening. As it got a little cooler, the chiminea was lit, and the candles in the garden as well, and it was just great. This is my favourite time of the year here. Summer can get very hot and humid, and that is not pleasant. I don't mind heat, but I do mind humid. I am not fond of having my clothing bond to my body in a highly unattractive fashion.
There is a dove cote close by, and for some reason (probably my neighbour's constant feeding of the birds - and pesky squirrels) they seem to have attached themselves to my roof. Then the pigeons, which as far as I am concerned could be bald headed eagles they are so huge, the sparrows, robins, blackbirds and other sundry small, medium and large birds of different hues all sit around my garden and sing. Sing? Last night there were times when we had to shout to be heard. They are loud. And when they do their flypast, the wind they create can blow out candles. Wildlife. In my garden.
Sigh. It was a perfect evening, after a lovely day.
And here I am in the early hours of another beautiful Sunday. The sky is blue, there is no wind, and my feet are bare and we have enough food left over from the BBQ to last us a week. What is it about me? The moment I light the coals, I feel the need to cook for the 40 000. Even if there are just 4 for supper. Like last night.
I love England in the springtime. And re-reading this post, the word which leaps out at me is "love". Spring. Sun. Warmth. Garden. Creativity. Friends. Family. Food. Fun.
It was a happy day.