This week saw these beautiful blooms burst into a crazy, lolloping display on my table. All skirts and flouncy scrambling, they really showed it off before they faded. They're gone now but they seemed to enjoy the ride.
This one grew a little, smiled a lot, melted me over and over and I hope will continue to bloom. I love her so much that my heart feels that peculiar kind of pain, a tenderness that takes in all of life - her transience, that life might hurt her, that we should ever be parted, the weight of my love for her.
My oldest chicken is blooming after an illness. After standing around with her eyes shut, looking like this was her last day, she came back. Everyone thought she was at death's door. I was advised to wring her neck but emptying her crop and high powered vitamins seem to have turned her around. She is a wise chicken who's been around the block through three different homes. She is the boss and although a little motheaten and no longer laying, she manages her girls well.
My knitting grows line by line in snatched moments. It's at a snails pace but slowly the rows are racking up. I'm knitting a huge size as it's always a race between their growing and how fast I can knit.
And have I grown this week? I've tried. I've cranked out some new recipes, gone to bed early and hit the kale smoothies. Maybe I'm finally growing up!
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