Little sips of lemsip and dabs of olbas oil have been sustaining me through the last few days whilst I struggle with this cold. It has been as though the weather has been mirroring my sniffles, with overcast skies and chilly winds, and the occasional spot of rain.
So you can imagine how beautiful it was to walk home in sunshine today. The air was still cool enough to burn my sinuses, but it was bright, at last. And as I walked along the little row of Victorian cottages that line one of the roads between work and home, I was struck by the profusion of beautiful flowers blooming in the gardens. Pansies seemed to almost dance in window baskets, and a shock of bluebells had forced their way up underneath a fence. A spray of sweet peas, not quite in bloom yet, but with one or two brave early flowers leading the way, leaned over a gate, reaching out and swaying in the breeze. The next garden offered huge, overblown, blowzy irises. I adore irises – they always look like a painting of themselves, even when you are seeing them in reality. One uncut front lawn was bespangled with dandelion clocks. Utter bliss. After so many months of winter, I was amazed to see that suddenly, everything is in bloom.
And then it hit me – it is mid May, nearly June, so really, it is time that the flowers were in bloom. They are so welcome, no matter how behind they feel!
All this blooming puts me in mind of a quote that I have pinned to my flowery noticeboard at work – Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it turned into a butterfly…wise words, and I hope that even though my time in the Cabinet Office is drawing to a close, it will prove to be a butterfly situation for me!
I collected a Jane Brocket book from the library on my way home – The Gentle Art of Stitching – and visited the yarnstorm blog this evening as a result. Jane has written a post called Repository in which she said This blog has proved to be a useful distraction and source of consolation in recent weeks and months when terribly difficult things have been happening. It’s a little repository of good things, small highlights, and positive moments. These are by no means representative of my days, but I put them here to remind myself that they still exist. The thing is that life goes on, that it’s counterproductive and not good to be completely submerged by sadness and despondency (that way madness lies etc). Better to acknowledge the bad parts, know that good times will return, and endeavour to keep a balance. which reminds me of something from Mrs Miniver. In it, Mrs Miniver muses on marriage, and says that some of the best aspects of marriage are having somebody’s eye to catch at a dinner party, and having someone to save up little stories from your day for, turning them out in the evening like pebbles from your pocket. I couldn’t help but relate that to blogs, too. I have always talked about the difficult times I have faced as well as the good, but it is really true that my blog is a repository for me, of my thoughts, and life, cups of tea drank, books read, things made, adventures had, and little happy things observed.
Nothing more, nothing less. Just a little repository. It is lovely to always have somewhere to be able to come and turn over old memories, should I want to. I don’t very often read my archives. When I do, it tends to be when I want a recipe I have posted here. But I love knowing that if I want to relive the year we moved or got married or a particularly birthday, or just recapture the feeling of a certain kind of afternoon, when only a bath will do, then I can.
Sometimes I think about blogs, about blogging, what it all means. But today, it just means comfort, peace and joy.