In the early spring garden

The emergence of the snowdrops has me back in the garden again. I forget how much I love it; an hour or more can pass without the slightest boredom or impulse to go and do something else. No guilt, no internal struggle to stay on task, just sheer enjoyment. And there are so many signs of life.









I invited Beth into to garden to help and tried to be Ok with the fact that she scathingly said ‘no way, I’ve felt the temperature'.

I’m working on the front garden which is unusual for me as I don’t care much about appearances, or it seems my poor neighbours, and the back garden is my pride and joy. But the spring is the best time in the front garden, with snowdrops and tiny crocuses hidden under all the old growth. There are black and white tulips and primroses and hellebores, and I want to see and enjoy them.

I had been out for about an hour and as the light faded I decided to do one more thing, plant some tulips that I had bought as a present but which had arrived too late. I had no sooner pushed my trowel into the ground than a little voice says 'stop Mum you know I love planting'. I suppose the interest in the preparation can be allowed to develop in its own time.

I am trying hard to deschool myself and embrace unschooling, I still have a long way to go.