I have already been at my new address now a month. (I know😲. And that’s gone so very fast.) It has taken a while for me to feel somewhat settled and at home, but that’s not really any surprise, after all the drama of finding somewhere to move too! Rent issues and unpacking the myriad of boxes it seemed only just yesterday, I managed packing up. Although I like my smallish and some would say Bijou flat (remember that 70s word😁) which indeed has its quirks, foibles, oddities… for instance there is one cupboard door that opens up the wrong way and smacks loudly against the kitchen wall every time I need something from it. Then there’s the small four foot tall cupboard space that tapers down into a long triangle at one end, this is in my bedroom. And I’m quite sure that it wants to kill me. (No, I promise you… it really does! Since being here I’ve smacked my head on an almost hidden shelf in this pitch dark recess numerous times now… it’s also back breaking getting in there in the first place, even for my diminutive 5’2” height.) Lacking of storage space makes putting things away a novelty, but essential and I’m becoming very inventive, if not obsessed these days.
But despite its flaws, it’s crazy lay out, I’m bonding with my new home. It has got some lovely features, like it’s wonderful quietness. I never until recently knew I valued peace quite so much until the last three weeks. My living room window affords a beautiful view of the sun setting in the evenings and, as it does, I hear the blackbirds singing their evening song before they roost. This tiny Cul-de-Sac takes on a lovely sense of calm and tranquillity, a hush. Dog walkers have walked their dogs by now for the night, neighbours finished chatting outside their houses, traffic noise seems far off, distant from us. And, as darkness moves in and envelopes the quiet street, everything seems to hunker down and settle in. Likewise I follow it’s lead. A lit table lamp sets a warm glow about the room, my fake coal heater flickers and glows. I’ve eaten dinner, then calmness follows.
This week my friend Debbie appeared out of the blue (or at least via the front door anyhow,😁) wanting to know if i would like to go out for an hour. I gratefully grab at these rare opportunities, as they are indeed somewhat few and far between. Plus I do enjoy her company. She has a sense of fun, a joy for life and one can’t help but leave your troubles, concerns behind when with her. We mostly do a shop, but after, we like to make free at any local garden centre… gardening being a shared interest, a big passion for us both. Tuesday I bought way too many plants. They all just seemed to want to come home with me, never mind I’ve no garden, indeed I’ve only room for a few pots😁,
We always laugh about just how much we cram into her tiny Nissan Micra, it’s boot already heaving with a food shop. We then precede to fill the back seat, which, in no time, is covered by one rather large and unruly Fuchsia bush, trailing Lobelia, some sweet scented stocks and there’s, of course, the obligatory three large bags of compost I just had to have. Giggling away about that days treasures, we head to the nearest coffee shop to discuss the week and our future garden plans.
When we arrive home, we empty the poor car 😲 (I swear at times I hear it groan with immediate relief). From there on we decided on doing some investigation into what is called somewhat loosely a communal garden. (We only think the communal gardens! 😁 We know for certain there is some somewhere.) We are just not a hundred percent where yet. There’s this patch that I can see from my bedroom window that looks to have been a beautiful garden at some point, full of mature, hardy bedding plants, largish shrubs and, though it’s somewhat overgrown, bedraggled even, it could be nice with some love. Then offset just to the right is, or was, what I can only presume to be a shared washing area. I’m not just good at guessing by the way or tapping into residents past, 😁 someone, at one point, has strung out three strands of green nylon washing line. It looked old and neglected, as did the concrete based surrounding,
From every crack, gap in the fence sprouted great thorny bowed arms of brambles. Not only did they hang at eye level over the fences, they snaked along the ground, each thorn as long as needles, ready to impale you at any given moment. Sycamore saplings, bi-coloured strands of ivy, the largest dandelion leaves I’ve ever come across, spire-like foxgloves, blue periwinkle and, of course, nettles… lots of nettles. The day was dull, damp and dreary which only added to make it seem somewhat depressing and sad to see the small garden so neglected. Rubbish was hiding under thickets of weeds, beer bottles of parties past rolled by somewhat ghostly. But I, at once, with my gardener’s heart, could see it much much differently. Here with care, some tending, maybe a little patch of Eden could spring to life… an oasis where the brambles now waved menacingly in the May breeze. As we walked away, I already knew I found a much needed project, something to breath life into. It was going to prove hazardous, if not dangerous, in places, but the challenge called my name .
That afternoon I took my coffee and phone with Jesse in his video chat land, to sit out on the front step of my flat. Debbie has given me several large down-filled purple cushions which make the somewhat hard step comfortable. I sat enjoying the warmth of the early May sun, sipping my drink, plans for my garden project fresh in my head. The flat and new area grew on me. No one seems to bother me. I can sit here in my silence, taking in the birds who flock to my feeder which I’m now having to fill several times daily. (Word has got round from a little bird. 😁) One large blackbird family in particular are regulars… little cheeky sparrows, noisy bands of boisterous starlings, fly in also. But one visitor in particular already has me intrigued. He’s a young Grey Squirrel, brave enough to sit at the end of my path, tail flicking back ‘n’ forth, just watching me as I did him. He looked at me almost expectantly, head jauntily cocked. (So guess who will be adding nuts onto this week’s shopping! 😁) We go on eyeing one another curiously. Then along came the enraged sparrows who, by now, consider my bird table their territory, swooping down low at his head, making several bypasses to warn him they meant business, then actually skimming the top of his head to leave him in no doubt. My new found friend, with a last look and an irritated flick of his bushy tail, was off… these pesky birds were trouble.
I have now began work on the abandoned clothes line area, somewhat tentatively in the beginning… didn’t want some angry neighbour feeling I was stepping on anyone’s toes. The day was warm. Light winds kept it bearable. I found I enjoyed the task immensely, cutting back the brambles that were armed with huge needle daggers and not afraid to use them. Within half an hour, I ached, but had made huge headway… my garden bin filling up fast, but it was satisfying to see where I had been. That afternoon I left notes in my new neighbour’s letter box, explaining what I was about, inviting them to lay claim if it belonged to them or they wanted anything. One neighbour arrived later that day, making it clear that no one had been near the garden in some time and if I wanted to use to go ahead. And I have.
Who knew that I had needed this wild, untamed and abandoned piece of neglected garden, almost, I would say, as much as it needed me. I would love it back into its former glory, leaving intact some of the climbing ivy, trailing passion flower I unearthed, pink flowering gooseberry, foxgloves, and cotton Easter whose berries will be a much needed feast for my bird friends come the winter months. My arms bloodied by the rampant, thorny bramble, even poking through the thick leather gloves I had hated so much wearing, I could only work in small bursts… spells of ten minutes. Muscles I hadn’t used in a while aching, sweat forming beads on my face and scalp. I was sore, scratched to hell, filthy and tired, but seeing this progress felt good. I straightened up somewhat gingerly and surveyed around the perimeter. A good hours work! I knew I would pay dearly for my endeavour, but I didn’t care, my labors had emptied my troubled heart and mind. I felt hungry for the first time in weeks, but what was best I had plans, MY plans. Enjoy your day my friends and take care of you. 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🌹💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🌹💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🌹x
My American Man In Purple Lace Corsets 