Weed

"A weed is just a plant in the wrong place."

Well don't we all just feel a bit like that some days?

This is a tiny weed outside my front door. I was up early today, into Edinburgh for lunch (late*) with an old friend of Mr B's over from Australia. Then off to the senior Bs for a cup of tea and a long conversation about a movie Mrs B senior saw. Quick trip to Costco and home for my first Mr B dinner for a couple of weeks** with a very nice bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape.

But despite all that, the first time I picked up my camera was to sit on my front step and try to capture this tiny, beautiful flower.

I've loved living in this village, but even here I'm not convinced I've found the place where I'm not a weed. One day, perhaps, I will.


*In a truly blonde moment I managed not only to lock the house and car keys in the house as we were leaving for lunch, but also managed to convince Mr B that our neighbours no longer had spare keys... until those neighbours popped out to see what was up as we were calling the locksmiths. Turns out they have two sets of our spare keys.

**I'm sure the lack of Mr B dinners might have something to do with my dropping 6 pounds in the last week or so.