in an english country garden

will you still need me ...

Well that was a bit different!

Today, my dear wife celebrated a certain birthday familiar to those in tune with the ninth track from the Beatles' legendary opus, 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band'.

She came down this morning to be greeted by a gallery of pictures from our three grandchildren, despatched lovingly to her across the internet. Breakfast and then present-opening beckoned.

Chocolate and sweeties galore, a book about quilting, a gift-card, book tokens and most bizarre of all the '#IstayathomeforGrandmaviruscoloringbook' sent by Debbie, her best friend and ex-vicar. Highlights included a skipping unicorn above the merry caption, 'Happy as F***', a beehive pattern with the words, 'F*** the Virus' at the centre and a lovely lady cycling through an idyllic scene with a helpful reminder, 'p.s. f*** the quarantine' at the bottom. Hours of endless fun await!

And so to the virtual birthday party.

I made egg sandwiches (crusts removed) and fetched out the calorie-busting chocolate cake I had tucked away discretely beneath the gin supplies in my shopping bag during our weekly 'essentials' visit to our local Co-op yesterday. Meanwhile a somewhat more capacious birthday spread had been laid out at our eldest daughter's  home.

We were connected by Facetime. 'Happy Birthday' was chorused across cyber-space and our grand-daughter approached the ipad at her end to blow out the solitary tea-light on said chocolate-cake at our end.

Memories are made of things such as these!!

improvise and adapt

The photography group I attend is still operating on a virtual basis courtesy of Zoom. The homework this week is to take some self-portraits on the theme of 'Improvise and Adapt'. It's something we all have to do now on a daily basis.

I did think very carefully about this in light of the death a few days ago of my friend and former work colleague. However, Philip loved a joke and a laugh - he was always the life and soul of the party. So here are my first two photos ...

 hand gel at the ready

deep cleansing

 

easter reflections

The daffodils are dying as the primroses come to full bloom. And so the world turns again. Except this Easter it feels very different. The roads are deserted, the fields are quiet and empty. Silent but for the chirping of birds.

For many of us Easter is a time for reflection and this year more so than ever. There are many unanswered questions ...

Is there a God?

If so, where is God in all this?

Why am I here?

What happens when I die?

There are no easy answers, whether or not you are a person of faith. It is, however, an opportunity to pause and reflect on the meaning of life.


This post is dedicated to the memory of my friend and former work colleague, Philip Tillman. He died on 8th April of Covid-19, just short of the retirement he was so looking forward to.

 

dreams of spring-time

 

 

new order

In more normal times these poly-tunnels would be just that. A means to cultivate soft fruit. But in the midst of the corona virus crisis they seem to weigh more heavily on the ground. A sinister reminder of what an unchecked pandemic might look like.

sunday walk