Full Bloom

Our friends depart at lunchtime, and G leaves for a rehearsal and concert in Chester. I had planned to go with him, but we both decide that I’m not up to it - especially as I’ve been feeling quite lightheaded this morning. 

And so I’m ’home alone’, reading the latest book Solveig has passed on to me - The Artist, a very impressive debut novel by Lucy Steeds - interspersed with researching our travels in Namibia where we’ll be in four months time. This latest trip was booked over a year ago, and right now I do feel both excited and intimidated by it; I’ve always wanted to go there, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed that l’ll be well enough. 

The weather’s absolutely gorgeous, and my just-coming-into-flower tulips of a few days ago are now at their blousy, billowy best. I suspect they won’t last long, so spend a while trying to capture their transient beauty. 

And when the sun goes from our garden,  there’s also time for further catching up with journals, as well as a binge watch of The Stolen Child.