It's been one of those days today, despite my best intentions it is now 3.25pm, the children are due back from school and I haven't actually managed to do anything. Maybe I'm being hard on myself, I have put together the new hand-push lawn mower, but I don't think I've done it quite right and the next bit involves blades. Never mind Dave finishes work in another two hours........
My dad has always wanted a plum tree, so three autumns ago when mum brought a stone back from the golf course( having picked and eaten the fruit as she played) I popped it into a pot of earth and promptly forgot about it. I was thrilled when it germinated the following spring and tended it carefully, somehow when it became time to plant the tiny sapling it ended up in my garden!
I can now report that for the first time the branches are covered in blossom buds, I can't wait to see how it looks. So imagine my surprise when I read the following passage, I feel it was written especially for me
Gardening is one of the late joys, for youth is too impatient, too self absorbed, and usually not rooted deeply enough to create a garden. Gardening is one of the rewards of middle age, when one is ready for an impersonal passion, a passion that demands patience, acute awareness of the world outside oneself, and the power to keep on growing through all times of drought, through the cold snows, toward those moments of pure joy when all failures are forgotten and the plum tree flowers.
May Sarton, Plant Dreaming Deep, 1968
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