Spring works its magic when fortune fails to shine

A recent run of bad luck threatens to dent Fiona’s positive nature, until a visit to an old friend has her counting her blessings

The week starts so beautifully. Daffodils may be dying back but other spring delights are making their presence known: cherry blossom in glorious pink bloom; azaleas about to burst into a sunny mass of yellow; little blackface pansies adding a patch of purple to terracotta pots…

By the time you read this, of course, things may well have changed. The weathermen tell us a cold snap is on its way and as I write, a hailstorm erupts. And just when you thought it was safe to go out in the garden.

It is no matter. Keep calm and carry on. Cup half full and all that. With a bit of luck, yours will contain a nice white wine.

Most of the time I am an optimist. But when bad things occur, have you noticed how they usually happen in threes?

One morning starts with a tearstreaked face. Then gets worse. I carelessly poke the mascara wand into my eye while putting on makeup. Nursing a red face, I set off to the pool, only to find my swimming costume has been left at home. Getting back in the car I realise I have trod in something nasty.

Another day I lose one of my favourite earrings: the silver pearl that has been with me a decade or more. Then the ancient microwave judders and splutters before finally giving up the ghost. To top it all I burn the chief’s tartan shirt with the iron. As my wise old father would say: no good deed goes unpunished.

Yet hope springs eternal. And really, these annoyances are all minor in the great scheme of things. Especially when a person has something serious to cope with.

The husband of a friend has cancer. And while no tumour is a good one, this is really not a good one.

Yet he is a fighter and while he may be exhausted after chemo, he is down but not out. A bed has been made up in the sitting room so he can receive visitors and look over the garden.

It is cheering. The sun shines and the sky is blue. A semi-tame pheasant struts by on the terrace and a cheeky bobtailed rabbit darts from bush to bush.

I find a corner on the edge of the mattress on which to perch and chat.

It is a crowded place because he has two naughty dogs who are snuggled in by his side.

I have brought jelly babies and a white-flowered Easter cactus.

Most of the time I am an optimist but when bad things occur have you noticed how they usually happen in threes?

I imagine the hounds will be more interested in the bag of sweeties, but these four-legged friends do not leave his side. Over the months they have become therapy dogs.

Stroking a pet can have a remarkable calming effect. But my own MacNaughties would not make such good nurses. Barra the Cocker may in time become a tolerable pat dog. But Rummie the Norfolk just gets bored. Perhaps he will calm down. In the meantime, if it must, let trouble come in threes…