Not bad for January is it?

My recent surgery sapped my energy but Saturday was the first day for more than two weeks that I felt I had a bit of ‘oomph’.   The sun was shining, Doc was in and out with work commitments and so I decided to do some pottering in the garden.

However, cleaning out the chickens and pulling up the last of the leeks turned into five hours of glorious gardening.  By mid afternoon I had cast my fleece aside and had sorted out all the raised beds and tidied up some borders.  I pulled up trug after trug of weeds which is a sure sign of a mild winter.

In the greenhouse, the over wintered strawberry plants were doing well and the pots of pansies were blooming much better than their outdoor counterparts.  But the most surprising find was a patio rose I keep in a pot.  It was in flower!  I don’t know the variety; it was a gift to me over five years ago and not labelled.  The sunshine had heated the greenhouse and the fragrance from the rose was intoxicating.  In fact it was so warm in there that I had to open a couple of windows.

Our greenhouse is roomy enough for a table and a couple of chairs in the winter months but on Saturday it was warm enough to sit on a bench outside and enjoy a cuppa, listening to the birds.  I spotted the first snowdrops in the hedgerows and the buds on the blueberry bushes looked desperate to spring open. But the nicest site was the emerging rhubarb, nubby ruby shoots and a promise of crumbles to come.  The garden definitely seemed brighter and not at all bad for the 28^th January! 

It is not often I ‘garden’ with any enthusiasm in January.  I did need to do some shopping but I am glad I made the most of the surprisingly good weather.  I felt chuffed that I achieved so much in so short a time and it means we are well ahead for the new season.  Even Doc managed to squeeze in an hour on the plot and cut all the autumn fruiting raspberry canes down to the ground which was another tick in the box. 

We greeted Sunday morning with a familiar sigh.  It was raining, that grey misty weather that dampens your spirit and the ground.  But that’s the British climate for you.  And that is why we have the saying:  Make hay whilst the sun shines......

The growing season started early......

The daffodils and crocuses are peeping above the cold soil and there are buds on the fruit trees waiting for some action but for our family the growing season started a few months ago, in a completely different way.   It is now gathering momentum and we are reminded about the important things in life, the most important being, the importance of life itself.

Number One Son and Daughter in Law are expecting their first baby in the summer and it is the first baby to arrive in our family for more than a decade.  However, it is a staggering 27 years since Doc and I welcomed our youngest into the world so we are feeling equal amounts of euphoric excitement and rabbit-in-headlights terror.  Friends reassure us that we will be ‘handing the bundle back to his/her parents’ and that it will fun all the way - but I am not so sure.  The emotional DNA has already coiled itself around our hearts.  This is not just any old baby and someone to entertain now and again, this is going to be OUR baby – by proxy.  Physiologically speaking, the bond may be diluted but nevertheless the biological bond is fixed in eternity.   Just as his/her parents will love, protect and provide, we too are bound by our DNA to do the same.  This new baby is one of us.

Therefore, this new phase in our lives is going to be both wonderful and tricky.  Being a grandparent is a new territory that we will have to learn to negotiate.  One thing it is not, is being a parent.  For instance, given our background in parenting, it may be assumed we will know what to do when the baby cries.  However, my brain has shrunken over the years, probably as a result of raising a family, and I can’t remember very much about day to day child rearing.  (The 1980s and 90s are a blur!)  Thinking it through though, this may be a good thing because apparently, a grandparent must keep their mouth closed and not give well meaning, but ultimately undermining advice, unless it is asked for.

We may read a book or two about how to be good grandparents but as long as Doc and I are good enough and develop a positive relationship with baby, that will be just fine.  The new parents have lots of energy and love to give and will muddle along.  And so will we.  We must remember we are gardeners and use our instinct for nurturing to see us through.

As for our new status in the family ie one of the elders, that is even trickier.  I have banned Doc from eating Werther's Originals and wearing plaid slippers – forever - and I suddenly feel an attraction towards certain face creams with magical powers.  I have some time though to brace myself for questions such as ‘what is it like to be old?’

What do we hope for our new grandchild?  We wish the same as anyone does, for any child, anywhere.  That he or she is loved and cared for, is healthy and has opportunity to reach their potential and contribute to the world.  Above all, we hope there are lots of smiles and only tears of joy. But whatever comes, Doc and I will be here, up to our elbows in poo when appropriate and quietly supporting in the background, the rest of the time.
   
I do hope the new baby does not inherit Great Auntie Edna’s big nose or my Great Grandfather’s addiction to alcohol and gambling.  It would be nice if the gardening gene could make an appearance but I am prepared to be disappointed.  He or she could be a petrol head or mad on sport (both of which I know nothing about) but one thing is for sure, the rest of our lives is going to be interesting!

View from the bedroom window

There are always jobs to do on the plot but January is our quietest month.  This winter I decided to make use of this fallow time and have some much needed (but previously avoided) surgery on my legs.

Finally, my varicose veins have been exterminated.   It is a fairly routine procedure but wearing surgical stockings for the next few weeks is doing nothing for my usual youthful outlook. I am hoping that I will soon be hopping and skipping down the garden path but for the time being, I feel very middle aged and life is somewhat tedious - and sore.

I had a low start this morning having had a restless night.  However, before Doc went to work, he brought me a cup of tea and my camera.  There was a hard frost last night, the sky is clear and the sun is shining.  When I opened the curtains, the valley below us looked stunningly beautiful.  I carefully positioned myself on a chair, opened the window and snapped away for a few minutes.

I have not had the inclination to explore the capabilities of my new camera and I am sure I could produce some better pictures if I read the manual and tried all the settings out.  But at present, it is taking me all my effort to get through the day.  I think I had enough general anaesthetic to take down an elephant.

Doc is on hen duty but after lunch I managed a walk down to the plot.  Their water bowl was frozen solid so I trudged back up the hill and fetched water for them.  Walking is good for my new legs but I was exhausted when I got back.  For the rest of the afternoon, all I can do is sit at my computer with my feet on a footstool.  I will walk more tomorrow.