Bluebell day

When you go to the same patch of woodland every spring for decades the memories flood back with every turn, one loved tree came down a couple of years ago and lies bare on the ground.  The tree where we have a lot of family bluebell pics has lost a branch, the patch of sycamores which my father stealthily uprooted over years now has more sycamores and yes fewer bluebells.  But the carpet of blue is still dense and rich and spreads to the edge of the woods.  

More garlic, maybe?  

We took our American friends who are staying and they were suitably impressed. 

Afterwards we went for a very good pub pizza at The Buck’s Head and they headed off and I went over to Mum’s to clear out some of the garden pots and have a cup of tea. 

In the evening i planted out sweet peas and revealed more of my buried perennials before restoring my aching bones in a hot bath.  Asparagus for supper and about half an ep of Succession before I fell asleep on sofa. 

A good day off.