On Monday So good to end up refreshed by nature
IT started with a week of really poor sleep. I know they say you don’t sleep as well, as you get older … (except, Sod’s Law, during the final episode of that gripping drama series you’ve been following for weeks!) But actually, there are so many people I’ve been speaking to lately of all ages who are not sleeping well.
My excuse recently was the full moon. Now, over the years the full moon has been blamed for everything from spikes in crime to causing madness to baby booms, so why not a bad night’s sleep? And there is a bit of science to back it up, all to do with lunar rhythms and melatonin. I don’t care what the science is, I just know that without a good night’s sleep I’m not good to be around. I don’t get hairy hands and start howling, but let’s just say best to keep all sharp objects out of reach.
After one particularly bad night, I got a call from my gardening guru friend Julie. “Boyce’s Garden Centre have got the lavenders you want and at a great price,” she said, “so get out there early ’cos they’ll go quickly.” Well, off I set down the narrow country lanes dreading that I would meet a car coming from the opposite direction. I was lucky: no tractors, no horses. I got there in record time. In fact, I got there half an hour before they opened.
So I sat in the layby just to the side of the gates and busied myself trying to learn a new song we’re doing at choir: Making Whoopee. Well, eventually Mr Boyce took pity on me, opened the gates early and beckoned me in. Probably couldn’t bear the racket I was making. Then I turned on the ignition … and nothing. Flat battery. Argh! How did that happen? The irony that I’d been singing Making Whoopee moments before was not lost on me.
Luckily, I wasn’t blocking the gateway and Mr Boyce sprang into action, attached the jump leads and we left it to charge while I panicbought my lavenders, desperately hoping that the car would get me home again and that I wouldn’t suddenly conk out in the narrow lane.
I left, half a dozen pots of beautiful Hidcote lavenders stowed in the boot, eternally grateful to Mr Boyce, who joked it was his five minutes of fame helping me. Bless him!
Got home safely, put the dishwasher on, which began to hum – and not a tune I recognised. Rushed up to the file with all the insurance paperwork in. Last policy I took out … 2017. Argh! Now to find someone who can fix it. In the meantime, I do luckily have a spare dishwasher … my husband!
Well, the week, I’m pleased to say, ended beautifully with a trip to see Natalie at Pink Cottage Flowers, a micro flower farm, in the next village to me.
Natalie’s a schoolteacher, but started growing flowers after her mother gave her a rose. She put a picture on Instagram and a local florist saw it and asked her to supply some. That was it – she was off: speciality daffs, Italian ranunculus and currently tulips. She now supplies several florists as well as selling direct at farmers’ markets and local shops in the region. Wow!
I thought my tulips were gorgeous until I saw hers – four raised beds jam-packed with the most glorious shapes and colours. Just what I needed – refreshed by nature.
Talking of which, you do know what they say the three best sounds are, don’t you? A toddler chuckling, early morning birdsong … and someone else doing the dishes!
I don’t get hairy hands and start howling, but best to keep all sharp objects out of reach