A small commune with nature

I feel I’m on the home strait regarding my edit, so I’ve had a bit of time off, this weekend. Had my usual chats with my children, yesterday, and also sat in the armchair and read the paper – well at least a part of the many volumes that one Saturday paper comprises. Also, I planted out three fat hyacinth bulbs that a buddy of M gave us; well to be precise, it was the scrap metal man, who cleared all the stuff from our shed. (Maybe it was more valuable than we thought.) Anyway, we had the hyacinths in a pot on the windowsill for the past few days, but the plants were lolling over, and the bulbs were too big for the pot, so they’re now in a bigger container in the garden, outside our front door. Before I could plant them, I had to remove something else, which I think was a fuchsia from last summer. However, there was also a conker in the pot, so I may have replanted a small oak tree.

Today, we’ve been out for a walk, because it was dry and sunny – and I believe more rain is forecast for the coming week. I looked carefully around my garden; some crocuses are coming up (very early), and a couple of snowdrops (but next year, there’ll be more – gardeners have to be patient and optimistic.)

It was a busy week, and more social than I expected or intended. My ex-bro-in-law rang up and asked if we could put him up for a night, as he was working in the area on Thursday and Friday. So we had a long chat over dinner on Thursday night. Strangely enough, my s-i-l, (his ex-wife) popped in for tea, the previous day, with her other half. My b-i-l was coming for dinner on Friday night. There is only one s-i-l left, and we didn't see her. Sometimes, it's all or nothing. However, putting in that extra bit of effort for visitors (in terms of dinners) is a bit tiring, so I deserved a rest this weekend.

Back to the Tainted Tree edit - when I have finished the half dozen pages of Anne and Irene’s comments, I am going through again to deal with some small factual problems. I’ve altered them once, and now decided it wasn’t necessary. I won’t describe the problem, as I hope that any readers won’t notice and won’t care anyway. I think in the end, thanks to the efforts of my editors, we will be producing a very professional product, as, indeed, all the Goldenford books have been.