We have been dumped into the deep-end of mortgage madness. I feel that in two short months I’ve had a masterclass in seeing through bullshit, learning the game (though not necessarily how to play the game), second-guessing bank policy and generally feeling hassled, stressed, unsettled. Amidst of all this we both still have businesses to run; the phone and the email never stop pinging. I remember that this time last year I was doing my yoga teacher training and it was HARD, so hard that I was on the point of giving up. But I stuck at it, passed the exam, and now see my teaching practice as a beacon of joy. Perhaps getting a home of your own demands the same pain…and so we’ve decided to stick at it. Let’s see what happens.
So there’s been no allotmenting, not much cooking and not much eating actually. A quick trip to the allotment this morning tells me that the ground is still cold but life is emerging – the currants have buds, a few brave daffodils are in bloom and the first tulips are poking their heads through.
The salad leaves I planted back in January are now lush and dense, perfect mini leaves that would make the trendiest of trendy chefs happy.
Jobs are piling up in my mind – the herbs need moving, ground needs digging, bonfire still needs burning. Seeds are asking to be sown. Grampy’s crysanths are off to my Mum’s tomorrow so I can be taught how to take cuttings.
On this sunny Good Friday, as the weather begins to feel spring-like, we step into the new season, hoping things will work out for the best.
Allotment: Moved broadbeans outside to harden off