Shadows on your side...

I had today all planned.  

The weather forecast was cloudy but warm all day with rain later in the evening.  A perfect chance to enjoy the fruits of our labour in the garden this week.  Some plein air painting in the morning, lunch out doors then some relaxation in the new reclining garden chairs whilst snoozing reading my book snoozing crocheting snoozing or catching up with blip snoozing.  Alas, shortly after this blink of sunshine, the promised clouds arrived and by the time D and Lola returned from her morning walk, it was raining!  Grrrrrrr! 

On the bright side I managed to snap my beautiful vase (a much loved tulip vase from Blip Pal Inge :-) with its current bunch of tulips.  Sadly the tulip bunch was one short for the vase so I had to sneak in a rose to fill the gap.  It can be an honorary tulip for the duration :-). The shadow of the flowers on the table really appealed to me.

So plans moved indoors.  Lunch in the kitchen, painting in the studio and crochet in the garden room.  Bit of tidying up too. 

After dinner we ended up binge watching the final three episodes of Steeltown Murders.  A dramatised look at how the 30 year old murders of three young women in Wales in 1973 were finally solved using DNA evidence in the early 2000s.  I do like Philip Glenister.  

Happy Birthday mum.  Today you would have been 83.  There's not a day goes by where I don't miss you.  Alan too.  He wants us to talk about you regularly and it always makes him smile.  

This week he's wanted me to sing a song you taught him (I have no idea if this is a real song or if someone in our family made it up!  You said your Auntie Mary sang it to you.  She and you, and my gran certainly sang it to me as a child, then you sang it to Alan)  It makes him laugh heartily and fills me with joy that he also still carries you in his heart.  Never forgotten <3 xxx

Writing the lyrics here for posterity :-))

Oh my wee laud's a soldier, he comes fae Maryhill, 
He gets his pay on a Saturday and he buys a half a gill, 
He goes tae the church on a Sunday, haulf an 'oor late, 
He pulls the buttons aff his shirt and he pits them oan the plate!