Yesterday, the first anniversary of my dear farmer's death, passed off quietly and without a hitch. Friends and family ensured that I had hardly any time at all to sit at home alone and think about things and about what might have been. Both of these routes make for negative thoughts which are of no use whatsoever.
Then, when I arrived home after lunch out with friend W it was to the pleasant surprise of the gardener hard at work in my back garden (which has never been planted up and is sorely in need of TLC give or take the marestail).
In three hours he removed all the old shrubs, took off the bark layer of mulch, got the ground ready for manure to be dug in and finally took away the builders' rubbish which has been on my patio since before I moved in to the property. (the people here before me allowed the builders to do some jobs before I moved in). Then between us the gardener and I swept the patio well and made it look much better than it has done ever since I have been here (five months).
I now have seven herbaceous perennials to be put into the bed and a dozen rock plants to be put into the rockery above - a start has been made.
This morning the first year is behind me - a good feeling. We had our usual coffee and then it was home on a very cold and damp day with a sharp easterly wind blowing. This Saturday night we put our clocks forward for one hour and British Summertime begins - although where it actually is at the moment is anybody's guess.