It’s been a difficult start to the year. This week we were told of appalling funding cuts in Birmingham, which will affect me personally but – far, far more importantly – will have a far-reaching and long-lasting effect on children, young people, disabled people, and those who are on the breadline. How many times in my career have I had to write crisis comms statements, had to re-budget due to yet another cut, had to sympathise with charity Chief Execs who feel personally responsible for each and every one of their employees, freelancers and beneficiaries as they receive yet another knock-back from their local authority or national funder? It does not help when politicians give their opinions from London (which is definitely not in recession, from what I can see) thinking that they can ‘fix us’ in some way, without knowing the local context or understanding just how hard people’s lives can be outside of the South East. There’s an economic crisis and it feels like no-one in power notices (or cares) and in the meantime public services and assets continue to be eroded and then eroded again. I am so tired of it all. And angry, really really angry. I know this feeling will pass. But right now, it’s hard.
Of course, I am one of the lucky ones. I have a garden, an allotment and a kitchen, all of which offer respite. As does a car: during half-term I took Harry down to the Cotswolds to explore Cerney House, with its snowdrop woods and walled garden. At this time of year very little is growing, which allows the bones of the place to reveal itself and the beauty of the lichen-covered apple boughs to shine through.
At home, the garden is emerging into life after what has been an odd, warm, wet and stormy winter. The hellebores are at their peak, with their delicate markings at odds with the sturdy toughness of these stalwarts. Pots by the front door bring some colourful cheer – I particularly look forward to the Iris reticula, in particular ‘purple hill’, with its regal purple richness.
On the allotment it’s meant to be the season of tidying and preparation, which was going well – Matt has been busy cleaning the bramble thicket next to the stream. Sadly, as was ever the case, he’s now got distracted by work and so the pile of rotten pallets and dried prickly stems is languishing as I await their movement to the tip. As soon as he’s done I can get started with removing the plastic sheeting from the beds and maybe putting on some green manure to get some nutrition into the soil. There is life emerging already, with the peonies, rhubarb and fennel all showing their fresh new shoots to the sun.
At home, I am looking to the future. It took a few weeks but the antirrhinum seedlings have finally emerged, including ones from last year’s saved seed – these were F1 hybrids so I have no idea how they will behave, and I am interested to watch their progress. I popped some broad beans into pots today too, impatient for the season to start.
This morning, after days of grey and rain, the sky was bright blue. I wandered out to the back garden, Gertrude trotting behind me, to take in the changes. Fresh new growth on the viburnum. The catch of a sweet floral scent from the skimmia. Green shoots from the allium, narcissi, tulips. The magpies are busy building their nests, as they do every year. The neighbour’s dog plays with a squeaky toy. The bergenia has sent up a single pink-flowering stem. The periwinkle has run rampant during the winter, with its pretty purple-blue flowers (but I make a note to cut it back before it takes over). Gertrude sniffs around then hops onto the cold frame for a spot of sun bathing. I notice that there’s a new view of the garden because I took out the ancient hydrangea, which has opened up a large space next to the equally-ancient Rosa ballerina. In the veg trug, there’s chard for cooking plus sweet peas and cornflower seedlings. Harry wants me to come in to look at the new level he’s made on Super Mario Maker. Matt texts to say he’s bought me a chelsea bun. The sun is briefly warm on my face.
I remind myself that after the dark comes the light, and all will be well.
Also this month:
Allotment/garden: Started off broad beans; potted on cornflower seedlings sowed last September; cut back raspberries (despaired of the brambles); pruned hydrangea. Antirrhinum seedlings have germinated including the F1s saved from last summer, interesting to see how they develop. The back garden is full of emerging bulbs and early perennials. Allotment still under cover but some hints of emerging peonies, rhubarb and euphorbia.
Cooking and eating: Forced rhubarb making its way into crumbles and cakes, but only one rhubarb bellini so far because I have a recurrent alcohol intolerance. Moussaka. Amazing home-made pizza at Lizzie and Rich’s house. Fruit compotes using last summer’s frozen berries. Haricot beans, soaked then braised with soffrito and tomato. Am cooking simple food for comfort, to distract from the outside world.
Also: Too tired to read, really, but dipping into a bit of buddhism/yoga for spiritual sustenance. Half-term trips to Science Museum, Lego Store, Cerney House. Travel/documentaries on the telly. Attempting to set boundaries on the Switch.