Autumn Cottage Diarist

A Month in the Country 31 - Tomorrow, I Will Plant Snowdrops!

Three weeks ago, we were wilting in temperatures of 34C here in North Hampshire – tonight, I have a thick wool poncho cosily wrapped around my shoulders, and just for the evening, the central heating has been clicked on. The bees are thrilled to find the Sedums flowering, there are windfall apples falling frequently under the old tree now, (time to make chutney!) and leaves are starting to carpet the pond (time to get the net on).

During this lovely month that I have spent with you all, my friends, the season has truly turned – and we have, I think, also tried to turn towards the future, trying to put the negativities of the last eight months behind us as we return to the (now very different) routines of school, work and social lives, while realising, deep in our psyches, that we have all been changed in some way though our experience of the pandemic. For some of us, only small, but real changes, for others, events resulting in devastating loss, grief and disorientation.

And though it all, I have had the privilege of my garden outside my door, and my friends over the internet ‘airwaves’ – friends with whom I have also shared these 31 days of musings from the countryside and friends who have been so generously sharing their thoughts and responses to the journal prompts – all of which I now intend to go through and re-read at my leisure and pleasure.

I hope some of you will also return to the prompts if any have caught your interest – remember that life is a Spiral Journey, so each visit that you make, over time, will always bring a fresh perspective.

Thank you all so very much for coming along with me on this little journey through August 2020; hopefully I will look in with an offering at the blog on a much more regular basis – this time with you all has reminded me just how much recording and sharing my thoughts around the Autumn Cottage year most definitely still has something to recommend it.

But for now  - let’s turn our faces towards the golden sunshine of September! The garden may be slowly preparing to take a rest – but we gardeners are always thinking ahead – and tomorrow – I will plant snowdrops! (and Iris…and narcissi – springtime will be here before you know it! 😊)

I leave you with probably my favourite poem of all time, to uplift your hearts at any time should you need it. A reminder to turn, always, to the natural world, of which we are all part, to find healing for body and soul.

Many blessings to you all, dear friends - many blessings

 

THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Wendell Berry

Journal Prompt

How will you turn your face towards the Autumn – with pleasure, or with trepidation? Are you starting out on any new adventures at the beginning of the ‘learning year’? How will you spend the longer evenings and the colder days (in the Northern Hemisphere – for my friends in the Southern Hemisphere – what does the approach of Spring and Summer with their longer, hotter days bring for you?)

How – and where – will you find ‘The Peace of Wild Things’?

A Month in the Country 30 - Plus ca Change...

Look - the golden stone of the 14th century church Of Saint Andrew in the village of Great Rollright in Oxfordshire, England. The mediaeval tower & church porch with its jolly carved face corbels gazing down outside, upon those who enter within.

Over the South door, the beautiful and intricate Romanesque arch and tympanum, ornamented with  strange, beaked, birdlike creatures and dogtooth chevrons… the little (Georgian?) cottage by the church gate, and just a mile or two away, the Neolithic Rollright stone circle.

Thousands of years of human-inhabited history sit easily upon the land here.

It's a quintessential scene that can still be found all over this country, hidden away down green and flowery country lanes, sometimes with thriving communities (though in the Cotswolds, those communities are very often now composed of incomers - commuters on fast trains into London, rather than the agricultural workers of 100 years ago). In the church, another sign of change - every clergy and lay officer of this parish is at present (very pleasingly!) a woman.

Things change… things stay the same; the permutations vary through time. In my own time over 35 years at Autumn Cottage, I have noticed many changes – particularly in the amount of traffic, both on the ground and up above - the elegant form of Concorde, which used to pass by overhead has been replaced by the mosquito drones of light aircraft, personal helicopters, Army Chinooks and Apaches. Other things are different - for the first time in almost all the years that we have been here, we are without feline company and now we weigh up the pros and cons of ever having another cat. Circumstances change and things that seemed stable and certain in my future when I was young, nowadays seem unstable and unsure.

I think all we can do is holdfast to that which is true and important – which may vary from person to person. For me, it means the valuing of family and friends, of taking from the past that which helps me to live in the present; I think for many of us, this means carrying forward the lessons we learned from our own ancestors. Do as you would be done by, try to tell the truth, and look out for others less fortunate than ourselves. I don't always live up to my good intentions, but I try as hard as I can.

I'm privileged to live in Autumn Cottage, because I also have the touchstone of 400 years of other lives passing through; their story is part of mine, and I have become part of the story of the cottage here as well. In those 400 years, though there have been many additions - the core of the house, its literal (wooden) framework, infilled with handmade bricks, has stayed pretty much the same.

Good people, and my sense of place, past and present, together ground me, when all around can feel like shifting sand. To me, that is a thing of stability and value, and I will hold fast to it for as long as I can.

Journal prompt  

What do you hold fast to, that is true for you? What lessons did your ancestors leave that you have carried forward in your own life, that keep your feet on the ground? Do you feel that you have yet become part of the story of your place? What have you done there, what changes have you made to leave your own mark on the land? In the time that you have lived in your home, what changes to the human and physical landscapes and ways of life around you have you experienced? Which of those have been good?…which ones not so much?

A Month in the Country 29 - Earth-y Delights

Human fingers made this pot - isn't that wondrous?

Primary school - South Wales – the 1950’s; every Friday afternoon was ‘clay time’ and since then, from the age of five years old, I have loved to get my hands into some of that gloriously squidgy stuff. Nowadays it's only self-hardening clay that I play with, but I'm passionate about the arts of ceramics, bringing forth beautiful and useful constructions from the very materials of the good earth, whether as in a high art form, or as artisan creations for the house and garden (and even as I say that I dispute that artisan creations are separated from other beautiful forms of art) .

I love interesting ceramics for use at the table and in the kitchen, but you won't be surprised to know that one of my favourite (and most expensive!) interests is to purchase items for the garden, and in the garden, I say that terracotta is Queen. The richness of the colour, the sensuous, gritty texture of the different types of clay from which pots are made, and the sheer practicality of the use for growing plants. Everything seems to do much better in a terracotta pot and cuttings positively storm away ! All are reasons for hunting down good terracotta pots and for good terracotta pots, in fact utterly beautiful pots, totally irresistible pots, I make a biannual pilgrimage to Whichford pottery in the Oxfordshire Cotswolds (a part of the country of great  beauty and a joy to travel through).

And so it was that we found ourselves today on pilgrimage 😊

Look - rather than give you verbal descriptions - why not just gloat over the gorgeousness of these receptacles?

Pots great...

...and small

For ornament......and for practical use

Of course we came home with some small purchases; I was taken with some small pans for growing succulents and a bargain “Shakespeare series” pot with a quote from Hamlet pressed into the side (reduced merely because of a minor flaw in the script – clearly not good enough for the high standards of the pottery, but quite good enough for me!), while Alec thought that a beautiful ‘Pancheon’ pot with pie-crust ornamentation would look good back at Autumn Cottage – and I very much did not disagree!!

The extra delight in a visit to Whichford is to see not only pots of every shape, size and description, (and in ‘normal times’ to watch them being made as well), but to be inspired by the very creative plantings - walk through an archway from the stockyard to the courtyard and you could be sitting in a Mediterranean village rather than in the middle of the English countryside.

Having become completely over-excited with the pleasure of pots – we needed s Nice Sit Down – which we happily found at ‘The Norman Knight’ – the pub on the village green. There we indulged in a rather good pub lunch – Moules Mariniere for Alec -  Asparagus and Artichoke Risotto for me

Once again, doing the things that In Other Days we would have taken a little bit for granted were now sprinkled with the gold-dust of newly underscored appreciation.

More on our Pilgrimage tomorrow - but for tonight ....

Journal prompt – do you work with and/or appreciate natural materials? Are you a craftsperson/artist, utilising clay? Stone? Cotton? Wool? wood? Where do you find your materials? What does it mean to you to handle the gifts of the earth in this way? How do you utilise or display the results?

What do you call yourself – artist? Craftsperson? What are your thoughts on this dichotomy? Are they two separate ‘states’ – or not? Lots of room for thoughts and musings here!

A Month in the Country 28 - Late Flowering Beauty

This is a hardy Hibiscus that I planted three years ago; It has never flowered until now, but this year it has put out these beautiful blooms. It is a late flowering beauty - both in the length of time that I have had to wait for it to blossom, and also in the fact that it is blooming late in the year.

In my late 50s, I took myself off to University and studied for a Masters degree; I received  the wonderful experience of a graduation ceremony in Winchester cathedral for my 60th birthday. I too was late flowering!

We often feel that we have left things too late - that we are too old, (too unfit, too tired, too fat, too clumsy…etc etc – the list can go on forever) to do what we would still love to do. But I think we have to keep going until the engine finally stops; until then, you are never too old and it is never too late! Whatever it is you long to do,  give it a go - then at least you can say you tried. Even if you try and fail, try again - fail better next time! - it's better than not having tried at all.

Journal prompt

Are you a late flowering beauty? Have you tried and achieved something later in life, of which you can say you feel proud? If you have tried and not quite achieved what you would love to have done, are there any adjustments or different roads you might take in order to achieve or get near to your goal? Sometimes, even a slight change in focus can set you on a new path and getting to, or even near to your initial goal can be a satisfaction in itself, especially if the journey there becomes part of the pleasure. What ‘tweaks’ could you make to your outlook and aims that might help you to get there – or get close? (It doesn’t have to be ‘all or n

A Month in the Country 27 - It's That Gratitude Thing Again

The grape vine being drowned on the patio

The summer is most definitely leaving us; although we had sunshine this morning, by this afternoon we have had another torrential downpour and a thunderstorm. The leaves are starting to turn and fall, the roses have black spot, many of the shrubs are overgrown and need a good trim. The evenings are drawing in - theoretically sunset is at 8:00 o'clock today, but it's pretty dark by 7.00 on rainy days like this.

And yet, and yet ... Today was also the first time that Alec and I have been out for a pub lunch for six months; something we used to do every other week - at the drop of a hat - just suggest it and within the hour, we'd be off for a pint and a sandwich. Now we can’t be spontaneous - it has to be booked in advance and is experienced with vast spaces around each table, spacing stickers on the floor, reminders about social distancing everywhere, and very few visitors to the bar.

Something that we took very much for granted is now a great treat - especially when somebody else is cooking what turned out to be a delicious meal! (Butternut Squash Tagine with pitta bread for me, with some very delicious stolen chips from Alec 😊 )

The roadside stall of plants and garden carpentry just 100 yards from the pub is also open again - in my excitement I forgot to take a photograph of it in situ, but here is the loot I collected today - four pots for 5 pounds, including a hardy Geranium, an unusual Campanula and two Iris foetidissima. Once again, something I took so much for granted is appreciated all the more for having not had access to it for such a long time .

And even though the rain is pouring down, and the plants are all starting to look ready to go to sleep for the winter, look what is positively flourishing amongst the autumn borders - an even greater abundance of blooms on the Gertrude Jekyll than I showed you  several days ago; far more than through the summer, and I think as a result of the downpours really soaking the roots in the very poor soil. (I owe it to her and all the other roses to pile on the manure over the winter - they deserve it!)

The online booking issue from last night most definitely has not resolved itself - I've spent far too much time today hanging on a phone listening to a recorded message that ‘the team are still busy’ -  I think it must be a team of one, but I'm actively trying to put it aside and allow the balance of far more of what my dear, departed friend Fran used to call The Sacred Ordinary’ tip the scale towards seeing the day as a good rather than a bad one.

It’s all a matter of choice.

The world is a very disrupted place at the moment, both politically, environmentally and physically (and of course, they are all interlinked) - but I really believe we can ground ourselves in the simple act of just looking for small things every day that have made our lives better rather than worse; recording them in the pages of a Gratitude Journal gives me something to look back through and remind myself of the brighter moments if a grey day really does cause you to struggle. Whatever comes up - this too shall pass. But if you keep a Journal, you can hang on to the good stuff, and when everything else has fallen by the wayside, on the page, our grateful memories can remain and sustain.

Even when it includes a river down the road!

Journal prompt

what are the signs that you can see that the year is turning? What are you sad to lose from this season? What are you looking forward to in anticipation in the next? In this uncannily normal/not normal daily life, what have you been able to start doing again that was disrupted over the last few months? What small things do you know appreciate that you barely noticed before?

A Month in the Country 26 - Pure Distraction!

Modern Church adornment in Bucharest - a resurgent orthodoxy!

The 'Three Living and the Three Dead' in the 12th century Church of St St Peter, Hurstbourne Tarrant, near me - the mural whitewashed - and thus preserved - after the Reformation.

There almost wasn't a blog post today - but 'Internet life' is part of my reality, living as we do out in the sticks a bit, so I've decided that this WAS part of my life 'in the moment' - so I''ve decided to share it with you😊

I've had a nightmare of an evening; trying to make an online booking, my Internet link kept on dropping. Frustratingly it decided to drop in the middle of a secure payment, leaving me hanging in limbo – booked but unpaid (I think!) and no helpline available until tomorrow morning.

So, to distract myself from the anxiety always engendered by internet interactions involving
money and/or security related – I played a favourite ‘Time Travel’ mind game with myself –– as in ‘if you could travel anywhere in time….’ and tonight decided that one of the things I would most like to do would be to travel back to a period before the  Reformation in Britain, before the Monasteries were dissolved, before Cromwell’s Puritan Iconoclasts of the English Civil war & Commonwealth desecrated and destroyed the interior ornamentations of the parish churches, to a time when the now austere interiors (there are a few exceptions) were as gloriously ornamented as those I saw last year in Romania. What a sight that would have been!

Journal prompt

if you had the opportunity to travel anywhere in time, where would you choose to go? Who would you choose to meet - and why? It doesn't have to be just one place or period - This is a game you can play over and over again.

A Month in the Country 25 - Comfort Food

We are feeling the full force of storm Francis here today – very, very high winds which are rocking the still fully leaved trees back and forth , interspersed with heavy downpours which are actually leaking through the roof (but that is another story !)

Although it is still quite warm, the miserable Autumnal weather always makes me crave some sort of comfort food; Something easy to make but which must still be tasty and attractive to the eye. So here is tonight’s supper - one of my go-to recipes - a nut roast full of goodies, vegetarian in my version, but by using vegan cheese instead of ordinary cheese, and a tablespoon of gram flour instead of eggs it can easily be turned into a vegan dish.

A particular addition I make nowadays is a mixture of herbs and seeds called Sesame Togarashi Spice Blend – one of the products from the ‘Wicked’ food range which is being promoted in our Tesco supermarkets, and which I have to say I am using by the bucketload. Derek and Chad Sarno are creators of the ‘Wicked Healthy’ Vegan food company and website (where there are some fabulous recipes); they also have a presence on YouTube and Instagram. Derek is ‘Director of Plant Based Innovation’ at Tesco, where some very good Vegan products are now readily available, both ready meals and ingredients. I have no affiliation - just admiration, and I heartily recommend that you try their products if you have access to a store. (their products maybe available elsewhere)

Roz’s Togarashi Nut Roast

Two slices of dry wholemeal or granary bread

2 eggs, beaten

1 large onion

1 stick of celery

2 cloves of garlic (or 1 tsp minced garlic)

1 vegetable stock cube

150 ml hot water

2 tablespoons pumpkin seeds

2 tablespoons golden flaxseed

3 tablespoons mixed chopped nuts

2 teaspoons wicked Sesame Togarashi spice blend (*if unavailable, use another paprika- based spice blend or mix your own)

1 tablespoon sunflower oil

• Break up the bread, place it in a food processor and chop it up until it is a rough crumb (no larger than about half centimetre pieces)
• Dice the onion & celery, add the chopped cloves or tsp of garlic and fry gently for about 5 mins to soften them in the sunflower oil
• Mix the pumpkin seeds, the golden flaxseed, the mixed/chopped nuts and the spice blend into the breadcrumbs.
• Dissolve the stock cube in the boiling water and allow to cool for a few minutes
• Stir the stock into the bread crumb mix and allow the bread to absorb the liquid
• Add the onion and the celery to the mix and stir well
• Finally add the beaten egg into the mix and pour all into a greased or non-stick loaf tin (I have two, from Sainsbury’s own cookware range, that I use almost daily)
• Top with about 3 tablespoons full of grated cheese of your choice
• Top the cheese with a sliced tomato

• Cook at 190C/375F for about an hour, until the tomatoes are cooked, the cheese is melted and crispy and the nut roast is raised.
• Allow to rest for about 15 minutes, to firm up, before serving as you would any other roast; I particularly favour broccoli, new potatoes, baby carrots and a nice onion gravy.

The nut roast is also delicious served cold with a homemade chutney - it's a great addition to any picnic!

Journal Prompt

What is your comfort food? What comfort food do/did you serve your family – on what occasions? What is your comfort cooking equipment – the tools and dishes, pots and pans that you really cannot do without? What do you remember of the ‘go-to’ food served to you by your ancestors – Who? When? Where?

If you would like to join the ‘Month in the Country 2020’ Facebook group to share and discuss your own responses to each day’s blog, just click here

A Month in the Country 24 - Four Things I learned from a Dragonfly

Beautiful things sometimes flit in and out of our lives, don't they ? Today this flew into mine. I had been pruning shrubbery in the garden and walked in for five minutes rest and recovery on the sofa - but as I approached, I could see that my seat was taken. The beautiful creature occupying my place allowed me to approach closer than I ever usually manage to do - they're usually up and away as soon as they catch sight of you. Closer and closer I crept, and still no movement; something was untoward. Perhaps its claws were caught in the upholstery? I called for Alec to grab the small net from the summer house so that I could lift it out and it could be on its way, but as I hovered the net over the fragile creature, I could see that it wasn't going to move - in fact I thought it was dead.

But as I carefully lifted it by one wing, my hopes were raised - I could see its head move slightly and as I looked more closely I could see its jaws saw back and forth. So I took it outside, put it on the patio table and started to drip water in front of it - perhaps it was just dehydrated? I dripped water until the meniscus reached its mouth and lo and behold, it looked as if it was drinking.

 

Sadly, as I watched and wished, the jaw movement slowed and ceased. The beautiful creature was no more. I left it in peace and returned several hours later, to place it in a plastic tub. In time, it will - as will every living thing - turn to dust and return to Mother Earth.

This is the way of things – and here are four things that I learned from the dragonfly.

1. The dragonfly larva lives for up to three years submerged in water at the bottom of a pond or stream; most of its life is lived out of the sight of human beings but live a life it does. The skimming, hovering, darting beauty that we see as the final stage of that life is but a small fragment of the whole. I can't help but see a parallel to so many lives that we think we know all about, without pausing to think that there may be other parts of those lives which have been lived fully, about which we know nothing.This became abundantly obvious as I had my own children, and finally realised that my parents and grandparents had lived large parts of their lives, before I was born, of which I knew nothing . They were so much more rounded beings then I ever gave them ‘credit’ for in my youth . And so it is with every person we encounter - there is so much more to every life than that of which we (think we) know.

2. I tried my best to do what I could to ease any suffering for the creature, and maybe even revive it. Even if the outcome is not what I had hoped – we must keep hope alive; not necessarily that we can avert life from ending (which is, in the end, inevitable for us all) – but that we can, to the best of our ability, and at all stages of life, do what we can to ease suffering and make as smooth a passage for everyone as possible.

3. Over the next few days, my scientific eye, aided by magnifier and microscope, will observe and inspect those miraculous compound eyes, the delicate gossamer wings, the intricate beauty of its bodily pigmentation, the tiny, perfect claws with which it once clasped a bobbing grass. Though there is sadness at the passing of such a creature, there can be beauty, knowledge and reverence elicited from an encounter with the dying and the dead
   

4. Every day, the possibility of an encounter with beauty, wonder and kindness may cross our path. Always be ready to appreciate the glory and joy of it, if it should happen to you.

Journal prompt

What people or other beings have flown in or out of your life that have caused you to remember them with gratitude and wonder?

Did you have an encounter with beauty, knowledge or reverence today? Did you have an opportunity to practise kindness? To keep hope alive?

 

If you would like to join the ‘Month in the Country 2020’ Facebook group to share and discuss your own responses to each day’s blog, just click here

 

 

 

 

A Month in the Country 23 - Transports of Delight

There's a fixture that many of us in the UK have on a Sunday night - a distinctive theme tune and a predictable content, but for those of us who love the Antiques Roadshow, the evening would not be the same without it . At the moment we are being shown repeats, due to no recording having taken place in the last few months, but one of the benefits of getting older is that one does not (ahem) remember things quite as clearly as one used to - so that watching a repeat can be as fresh as if one has never seen the programme in the first place !

One item I did, however, remember was this quirky little bird, which the presenter described as being “ A Muranese ” creation. Crafted on the island of Murano, just off the greater island of Venice, City of my Heart, and soon as I saw it and heard the description, I was transported once again to that magical and mysterious place. I was reminded of the lunch my dear friend and I had on Murano, when we retraced the steps of two ladies who had travelled there in 1906. Like the ladies before us, we travelled by train and although we stayed in a small modern apartment while we was there, we also were invited for high tea at the same five star hotel on the Canale Grande in which they had stayed .

I'm often somewhat envious of family and friends whom I consider ‘real’ travellers, but I really should not be, as when I recount the places to which I have travelled, I realise what a rich store of memories I also have. And what a place Venice and the islands are to gather those memories! All over the islands, wandering around ancient churches filled with glorious works of art;  visiting the glass museum on Murano (a place which I consider one of the great museums of the world), mouth agape at some of the exquisite artistry expressed in the most difficult medium of glass; memories of wandering the backstreets of Murano after our somewhat bibulous lunch, catching my foot on a risen paving stone edge, falling base over apex and being more amused by the expression on my friend’s face than disconcerted at the fact that I may well have broken my knee cap! In fact, although I had a technicolour bruise reaching halfway down my leg, there was no serious damage done - except to my dignity. I managed to get upright again and hobble around for the next couple of days, before making our way home (again by train, not by air ambulance rescue, as I am sure Elizabeth feared would be the case at the time).

Ah, memories, memories 😊

Memories of a more prosaic kind were stimulated today by this Victorian chamber pot on my window sill, which I use as a plant pot holder and which I acquired several years ago from a car boot sale. The memories elicited were really just of that very pleasant activity - of browsing around boot sales, which I haven't done for several years now. It just reminded me of how much I miss doing such a thing, and made me wonder why I have not done so for such a long time? Perhaps that's something I ought to schedule into my timetable in the near future, though being in close proximity with crowds is something I'm still a little wary of  for the present.

The pot also gives me an opportunity to introduce “a little bit of Blue and White” which no 'Month in the Country' can do without, depicting a merry couple on their own 'Transports of Delight' - though I don't think it's an item which  will be appearing on the Antiques Roadshow any time soon!

 

Journal prompt

Things are important – some of them form part of our identity simply because they are repositories of memories. Do you have any items from the past which are your own 'Transports of Delight', reminding you of places you have been or people you have known? Describe it/them in your Journal, include a picture if possible, and allow your mind to wander through the memories associated with the artefact. Return to your writing on another occasion, to add the recollections which may well come up over time.

If you would like to join the ‘Month in the Country 2020’ Facebook group to share and discuss your own responses to each day’s blog, just click here

 

 

A Month in the Country 22 - A Stroll into Autumn - Thinking of Spring!

The approach of autumn is very evident now here at Autumn Cottage. After the very first signs a month ago - the very first leaves turning and falling, the very first misty morning - the season is now clearly upon us. It's one of the nicest seasons here (it is  Autumn cottage, after all!) and the colours are really starting to glow in the flower beds. I've made an effort over the last 12 months to infuse more colour into the garden, something I always felt it was missing, but now the Rudbeckias and the Asters, the Heleniums, the Crocosmia, and even a second flush of the lovely ‘Gertrude Jekyll’ Austin rose are giving a burst of colour and it really lifts my spirits.

But even as the colours of autumn start to show off, gardeners everywhere are starting to think about springtime - and so it is here. This afternoon I've been at the bottom of the garden, down by the lower pond, planting primroses! I've situated them on the bank below a huge Acer Flamingo tree, but that tree has made the work hard for me, as it sucks all the moisture out of the soil, so that I've needed to use a garden claw and a serrated trowel to hack out planting pockets. They are pockets which I have, however, filled with garden compost and leaf mould, to improve both the planting place and the soil around it; It can only get better!

The primroses are some of my ‘plants for free’ – which make me very happy. I potted up tiny little seedlings that popped up all over the place in the spring, which now have nice root systems, and by covering the little bank with them now, I'm hoping they’ll be getting their feet down over the winter, giving us a pretty springtime show in early March. There are also swathes of snowdrops and English bluebells down there, and in the next few days I will be planting 15 to 18 double Hellebores on the other side of the path, so hopefully springtime will burst beautifully in 2021.

Journal prompt

Are you planning ahead for anything in the next 12 months? I am an advocate of living in the moment, but there are also times when we do need to plan ahead, especially in the garden, as nothing there is instant (though some garden centres, TV programmes and  supermarkets would have you believe that gardens can be made in the flash of an eye, if you only just buy their garden-ready pots and plants!) It can also be necessary in other walks of life; it seems that events like weddings need to be planned like military campaigns these days – and holidays to popular places need to be chosen and booked way ahead.

Whether it's big or small, an event or a plan of action,  write about what you have in mind for the future – near or far, either in words or  by using the very useful tool of a MindMap. Then date your journal for one year ahead of today's date - and write an (imagined) review of how the whole thing went, Visualisation can be tremendously helpful in really setting intention - believe it and you will achieve it!

Looking back over the last year – what did NOT go to plan for you? What UNplanned surprises did The Fates have in store?

If you would like to join the ‘Month in the Country 2020’ Facebook group to share and discuss your own responses to each day’s blog, just click here