It seems my progress has continued undocumented for the last few months which is hardly surprising as I contracted the mother of all cold viruses (the like of which I’ve not experienced in years) and motivation has been slack to say the least. Then there was the snow and the rain and the general feeling of hopeless despair of - would we ever transform our grassy field into the beautiful and productive, creative playground that is my vision.
Gladly, the cloud of doom has passed taking with it plague and pestilence and with spring approaching there is much to be cheerful about. What better flower to lift the spirits of a winter ravaged soul than the humble daffodil? For me, this is the beginning of spring - that tangible waft in the air of warmer weather, longer days and growth. So back on track dedicating two days during the week and as much time that can be spared at weekends - we graft on. I don’t doubt there will be impatience, frustration and maybe the odd tantrum throughout the year when our efforts fail to go to plan - but the plan is flexible. I estimate it will be three years before the land is fully cultivated and should accept it is a process of gentle evolution – that way the journey can be enjoyed and cherished in all its wonderful education and perhaps I avoid punishing myself for inadequacies.