Work Experience

Tall Girl has just completed her week of work experience. She went to an award winning florists shop in an affluent part of the city, this is the frontage - not a good photo from my phone but you get the general impression.

She looked so grown up in her new 'work' clothes that we bought before hand. She had to wear black and she doesn't normally except for school. Anyway, she looked about 19 and completely ready for work.

I am so proud of her work ethic, she has worked very hard, lots of cleaning and scrubbing but it didn't put her off at all! Every evening she would come home and be excited about returning the following day, although by the end of the week she was quite exhausted, 9 to 5 is such a long day compared to the time she usually spends at school. The company have been so good to her, giving her lots of varied jobs to do and taking her to the flower markets and on deliveries to posh places! The staff were all so friendly too, they put her at ease and my shy baby blossomed and became a confident flower, it has been lovely to see.

I had a fantastic week with my first born. Small Sprog was at school camp and Lovely man was working away so we had some quality girly time together eating, drinking 'mocktails' and watching films. We met for lunch too (her request) and took sandwiches to the 'Downs', sitting in the sun watching the world go by. I shall always remember our time shared together, it was rare and precious.

Small Pleasures

When I moved in here about 15 months ago the garden was pretty much empty apart from weeds/wild flowers - depending on perspective, and a few survived, the Chamomile, Love-in-the-mist and Violas are still nestling amongst the more cultivated plants. 

It has been an unexpected delight creating a small garden, and although there is still lots to do, I realised, this week, that I have already fulfilled one of my goals - to be able to pick flowers from the garden to bring indoors.

Roses and lavender.

The lovely thing about gardens is the way you gather the plants. I have bought a few things from the garden centre but have been given far more plants from friends and family; unwanted plants from overcrowded boarders, cuttings taken with care, presents for birthdays, seedlings, all have their own story which I can tell myself as I wander around checking on growth and progress (I am quite an impatient gardener) and hunting for slugs!


 


So here are some photos of flowers recently cut. Now I can't cut swathes of beautiful bunches yet but I can pick poesy's. The red rose bush was a present from a good friend for my birthday last year and were in full bloom on my birthday this year. Somehow it felt very indulgent to cut them, place them in a vase that belonged to my Granny and put them on my bedside table on my birthday.

 The sweet peas seem to have taken ages to bloom - see I told you I was impatient - but I guess the weather hasn't helped, there's not been a vast amount of sun and if I was a sweet pea I think I'd be reluctant too. Anyway, so far only a handful of buds have opened but there are masses yet to come so loads to look forward to.

I have planted quite a few nasturtiums over the spring bulbs which faded back in May. They too have loads of buds but not many open flowers yet.

So there you have it. I love to go out every day and see what changes I can see in the plants around, it cheers me up. Each little  bright bloom..small pleasures indeed.

Mellow Small Sprog

Small Sprog was his usual animated self at the dinner table last Thursday night. "You need to be calm" He said to his sister "like we were in REP." (Religious Education and Philosophy)
"What did you do in REP then?" I asked him, so he went on to describe how they took their shoes off when they entered the class, sprayed something on their hands - apparently the lemon scented one was the best-   and took 5 deep breaths before working calmly through the lesson. "Wow!" I exclaimed, thinking that the teacher was quite brave trying to get a whole class of 12 year olds to take that seriously. "Did everyone do it properly?" I asked.
"Yes" he replied "Even George the Gypsy"!
"Really?" Now that was impressive!

Feeling Blue

Delphinium in my garden

It was my birthday last Wednesday. I awoke to the sun streaming through the curtains and a familiar warm lump by my feet; Stinky cats favourite place to spend the night. He looks at me and I know he is thinking instantly of his breakfast. We walk downstairs together, he does that familiar weaving in and out of your legs thing that cats do, sometimes I wonder if he's plotting my demise, but then who would feed him his favourite food?
I flick on the kettle and feed him hastily before he yowls the house down. I take my breakfast out into the garden and sit in the sun for a precious few minutes before I need to get ready for work. Stinky cat joins me, rolling around in the beginnings of the heat of the morning. It feels strangely quiet, the children aren't home until the afternoon and Lovely Man is working away...and Mum is not talking to me...

Birthday lunch

At lunchtime, after work, I eat in the garden again, Stinky cat follows me like a dog - I am never sure if it is just 'cupboard love'. I relish the last hour of quiet yet I have a small ache somewhere inside me; I check my emails every 30 minutes in case she sends a Happy Birthday message like she usually does on my birthday...it does not arrive.

In my garden

After picking the children up from school we follow our normal routine; I make sandwiches for the next day and dinner for the evening. Lovely Man returns, we eat and go to bed. Every now and again I remember it is my birthday and then I realise why the small ache is still there.
Sleep takes a while and my eyes fill with tears. It wasn't the day I'd planned, though maybe that's because I didn't really plan anything and I have learnt over the years that if you want to have a good time then you definitely have to organise it first and not just expect it to happen around you but I didn't have my heart in it this week. I could have suggested we go out or do something fun after school but actually I just felt a bit flat.

The Country Show

I am a complete sucker for farm animals, so at the country show - seeing as I couldn't smuggle any out - I couldn't resist photographing some. Hope you like them?

This sheep below was sporting a cool and trendy fringe.

These two appeared to be friends

Inscrutable sheep with attitude

(look at his eyes?)

Piggies in love

I fell in love with this cute highland calf, she was adorable-they all were..           

Alpacas, always look quite ridiculous!

And this beautiful bunny, what an amazing colour?

All in all, despite the rain, we had a great time.

For more animal pic's go to Tall Girls Blog !

Fathers Day

About 4 days ago I bought 2 cards for 2 fathers both, in some way or another, belonging to me (fathers not cards!).

Every year I scan the offerings in the shops; "Best Dad in the world", "You're a Star", "Do you remember when I was young?", all totally inappropriate to send to either of them, I end up buying two blank cards, one funny (for step father), one with cats on (for natural father, who has passed on his cat loving genes to me) Blank cards, in the end, were the only option, with Happy Fathers Day, scrawled in my own large handwritten letters. My natural father left when I was eight years old, it was almost 30 years before we saw each other again, I like him, and we are quite similar, but he's not really like a dad to me, I guess he's never really had the chances. Step father... well there's bits about it dotted around this blog...save to say some step fathers cannot be trusted with little girls. Anyway neither of them have really ever been 'proper' parents, which makes it quite difficult -not just to choose a card but -to understand what it's like to actually have a relationship with a male parent. It's difficult to understand my own children's relationship with their father and on dreary evenings like this evening, I feel quite sad that I will never know what it's like to be loved by 2 parents at the same time. In order to feel what it's like I live vicariously through friends and Lovely Man and from this end it looks very safe and secure, and I am glad I can see how it should be.

I am writing this at a time when I have also had an upset with the only real parent I have had (almost) constantly in my life and when there's no brothers and sisters around either (I am an only child) it feels kinda lonely.

I received an email today from her saying that she won't be reading any more of my emails before she goes on holiday - next weekend- which means she has no intention of being in touch on my birthday, which is the middle of next week. Our emails have been fairly blunt over the last week and she says she doesn't want to be upset before her holiday. And there was I thinking that my imminent birthday may bring about a change, it's been a very long time since she's not acknowledged my birthday.

Meanwhile the children have spent the weekend with their father. Small Sprog carefully made a lovely card before leaving here on Friday and Tall Girl winged it by taking a blank one from the cupboard to decorate at some point prior to the event! Somehow too I have bought -and concealed for them in their overnight bag - presents for both children to give to him this weekend, some things never change, and he will not suspect of course. I hope he has enjoyed his children this weekend, I think, perhaps, that he has.

What does Fathers Day mean to you?

Jubilee weekend on the water!

It was fun!

I think the children will always remember where they were 

for the jubilee!

 Tall Girl was mistress of the lock key!

And boy there were a few locks! 

(though we ran out of time to do this lot - the longest flight of locks in the country )

Sitting on the roof was great fun.

It was a shame to come home, but we shall definitely go again one day.

How was your bank holiday weekend?

Canal holiday

We are off on a canal boat for the weekend, everyone is excited. Tall Girl has an idea that she will lie out on the roof in shorts and T-shirt but the weather man says it's unlikely! Small Sprog has plans to drag his net along in the water and gather whatever he can catch in a bucket. He also has plans for a rainy day and has packed the game called 'Risk'. Tall Girl refuses to play it with him, Lovely Man has shown some enthusiasm. Lovely Man is already on the boat with his family. By the time we get there there should be bunting around the boat, which I can't wait to see. Photos to follow hopefully.

On the way home in the car tonight the children were talking about their plans. Tall Girl said she thought Small Sprog would look like a 'k'nome with his fishing net.
" 'k'nome?" I said as she had emphasised the 'k' sound at the beginning "do you mean gnome?"
She looked sheepish "I forget which silent letter it is!" She wailed while Small Sprog and I laughed until tears ran down our faces- the clue being in the title 'silent letter'! Poor Tall Girl. Dyslexia is a way of life around here, isn't it strange that she should think about the spelling when she says a word. It's a fascinating way of being, if sometimes just a little bit strange!

What are you doing for the jubilee?

Single mothers

A few weeks ago Small Sprog brought home his school report. Contained within were his 'levels'. The government is obsessed with 'levels', all the children at school know what level they are on (even the youngest) and what their target is for the year. All well and good if you are a bright and confident, not so great if you are comparing yourself to those who are very successful.

Anyway, I digress. I was happy with Small Sprogs progress and told him so. However I couldn't help comparing his report with Tall Girls one at the same age, at the same school.

Now I know she's a girl and perhaps this accounts for some of the discrepancy but although his levels were similar to hers at the same age, his predicted grades were much lower. Tall Girl has exceeded some of her targets this year and some are going to be roughly what was expected. But do you know how they are worked out? It's not just about her, 'they' take into account family circumstances and whether she's on free school meals etc.

When Tall Girl was in year 7 she lived in a nuclear family. Small Sprog at that same age does not. Small Sprog is registered for free school meals because of my low pay, even though I make him sandwiches every day. (The school benefits from extra cash if you register your children even if the children don't have the dinners.)

It seems that Small Sprog is not expected to do so well at school because he lives with his single mother. His scrounging single mother who apparently lowers his life chances. Is this fair? Is it fair that he shouldn't be expected to do as well because he comes from a 'broken home'? Is it fair that women who live alone are portrayed as non working scroungers with little or no education themselves, who have, in turn, no interest in their offspring's education or future? It makes me mad that his levels are expected to be lower now that he lives outside of the accepted required norm.

Recently I have neglected him I must admit, but only because I have spent every night for the last weeks -though it seems like months- helping Tall Girl revise for her GCSE's. And all that effort will be his in a few years - is his now when he brings home work from school.

I am determined that they will get the same results as they would have if we were still living in a family unit. In fact, I think I am better placed now to give them more help than when I was in an unhappy place.

Tall Girl completed her Science GCSE today, she has worked incredibly hard -though physics baffles us both! So fingers crossed. I hope, desperately hope, that I can continue to support them in their education until they no longer need me to. The only thing that might interfere with that is if I have to work 24/7 to support them financially and then there will be little time for our family life, but perhaps that's what the government would prefer?

Thoughtful

Here she is putting daises in her buttonholes;
grown up on the outside but still a little girl underneath

Tall Girl is very tall now, taller than me and very willowy and grown up looking. Her manner is becoming more mature too and I am enjoying watching her grow into a lovely woman.

This week I went for an interview for a possible job. The job isn't available yet, I just went along to see the school and talk to the Assistant Head. It felt like an interview though. The man I met was very pleasant but had quite a deadpan face and I still have really no idea what he thought of me or whether I will get an interview when they actually advertise the position.

Anyway, not long after I got home Tall Girl texted me in her lunchtime. "How did you get on in your interview?" She asked. Now this may sound strange but I thought that this was very grown up. She has never shown an interest or asked anything like that before. I was so pleased she had remembered and bothered to check, it felt really good to be thought of and it meant a lot to me.

It's funny how we develop all these little social skills over time. Just one little text or phrase can cheer someone's day -something to remember I guess. Who have you cheered up lately?

Markers of time.

"Gardeners question time will be coming from the Malvern Spring Show..." Listening to the radio today I was suddenly taken back to an earlier time. My first date with (now) ExHusband was at The Spring Garden Show, its at the same time every year so a particular marker of time. It's not a thing I think about these days, although in our former years together we would often visit annually as an anniversary sort of thing - we were happy then, but the sudden mention of it did make me contemplate for a while.

On that morning I can remember being ready early. I remember feeling slightly nervous and wondering if I was dressed appropriately, asking the cat what he thought and getting the usual pedigree disdain! We sat together, cat and I, on the kitchen work top, waiting expectantly; it was the bast place to sit in order to watch for cars.

When he arrived he came in for a short time while I went upstairs to get a jacket, meanwhile the Very Bad Cat threw up a fur ball in front of him, leaving him helpless and wondering if he should have intervened. You can't beat a cat's sense of timing when it comes to vomiting or depositing a semi dead rodent when there's guests around.

The memory made me smile yet the memory seems a lifetime away.

This weekend - 17 (or is it 18?) years later- it is Lovely Man's 40th birthday and we have 'Plans'. How strange it seems, that we can look back in time and know what was happening in that time and space so long ago. So lucky that we can't look into the future and see what is in store for us on certain days at certain times. Markers of time, good and bad, are always a fascination to me. Do you like to reminisce?

Hot House

I took this photo a few weeks ago. I'm quite pleased with it.

When I look at it I feel more cheerful, perhaps

because I can still imagine the warmth despite the current vile weather!

Dear future employer

Dear Future Employer

Please will you consider me for a job? Any kind of job will do. I can cook, clean, iron, sew, communicate and smile. I can sort out arguing children, teach dyslexic students, design house interiors and I have a First Class hons degree in Social Policy and Sociology. At the moment I work in a job that I enjoy but no one notices me. No one says please or thank you and no one is valued. We are all just numbers. We are all dispensable one way or another; if our contract is permanent then we can just be made to feel worthless until we find something else. At the moment I work in a job that pays so little that I don't pay tax but that doesn't help when there's not enough money coming into the household in the first place. At the moment I work in a job where I can't get any more hours even though occasionally there are some spare, they never come my way. Should I ask why? Should I ask what I am doing or not doing that means I am not considered? If I do, will I be singled out for more of the same? Or am I taking it all too personally? At the moment I am working in a job where I work overtime for free at the drop of that hat. I am very willing to please. I only need 5 more hours per week paid work to be able to benefit from tax credits which I desperately need, I am happy to work for £1 an hour just to be able to get this help. Dear Future Employer, will you consider me?

Sick as a fish!

Small Sprog has quite a few 'going to bed' tactics, I'm sure you can imagine? So when he says he feels sick, just as it's time to turn out the light, I'm often just a bit sceptical. It's the 'I need a drink of water' syndrome.

Last night, just as we turned the light out, he felt sick. "No you don't" I say
"I really do" he replies.
It's a bit 'cry wolf'.

I start to become exasperated. I tell him he can come back downstairs but only for a moment. I go off to find a bucket just in case - just in time in fact - Small Sprog is sick, poor thing. At least he is a good aim.

Consequently he is at home today, right as rain and slightly bored, which is a good thing, I don't want him to think taking a 'sick day' is fun.

So as we go to get Tall Girl from school this afternoon we have a conversation about fishing. He was watching a programme about fishing on TV last night to take his mind off feeling ill. "Did I tell you?" He says "That my friend has a fishing magazine and there is a picture of a boy with a massive carp that looks just like me?"
"Oh Small Sprog" I say sympathetically "You don't look anything like a big carp!"
He gives me a withering look. "No, the boy" he says "I look just like the boy holding the fish"

I giggle. He may have thought I was being silly but actually I was deadly serious. Hey Ho! I'll put my madness down to sleep deprivation. How do you account for yours?

The New Boy Band

Small Sprog and friends have created themselves a band. They are allowed to use the music dept facilities at school during lunchtime. His recent Facebook pic showed the four of them together with the words 'The Band With No Name'. In the comments one of them had said "Thought we'd got a name?"
"Not yet" said another "Thought of 'The Nutters' though"! Too true I thought. And so it begins..

Today Small Sprog gets into the car. "We've got a name"
"Oh good" I say "What is it?"
"Dynamo"
"Good name" I say, thinking I must try not to get it mixed up with my lawn mower -Flymo- or worse still the nick name that Lovely Man calls the lawn mower (Spazmo, which I know is very politically incorrect and I hope I have not offended anyone here).
"Who thought of it?"
"Me, but Alex thought of the slogan 'Hot Chicks And Rock And Roll'!"
"Oh!" I say "Do you know, sometimes there are things I wish I didn't know Small Sprog!" Goodness me they are only 12.

Anyway, he persuades me to let him leave his guitar at school so they can continue to practice. I agree and am secretly pleased because he really needs to practice loads more, it's not until later on in the conversation that I realise another boy is playing his guitar (his mother, sensibly, won't let him leave his guitar at school) and Small Sprog is vocals. So much for the guitar practice then, but he does have a good singing voice and it's way better than his guitar playing.

In the back of the car I ask him what they are currently rehearsing. He starts to sing, which always makes me smile. "Have you downloaded the lyrics?" I ask
"No, I know them all backwards"
"Go on then" Says his sister
"Go on what?" I ask confused
"Sing it backwards" she says with a 'duhh' sort of voice
"No" I say "He doesn't mean really 'backwards', it's a figure of speech"
"Oh" she says disappointedly and then, loosing interest, she asks "Can I have the radio on?"
I look at Small Sprog and raise my eyebrows, sometimes she just doesn't get it!

From the past (with explanation)

(Afterword: Having read a couple of comments below, I thought that perhaps I should explain that these events, spaced across 6 or more years, at the time did not feel catastrophic, dramatic or even on ordeal. Life just lurched from event to event, good and bad, intense and less so. Perhaps it was because I was so young and had nothing to compare my life with, perhaps it was the time itself? In the early to mid '80's I had never heard of 'Domestic Violence' I don't think the phrase had been realised back then, it wasn't on the news, on advertising hoardings or seen between TV programmes, it wasn't in my vocabulary; things happened but that's just how it was. I didn't share these events with my family - can you imagine the fuss, things were complicated enough? But then again, as I have said, there didn't seem much to tell. It is only now, now that I put it all together - and condensed here even more so- that I realise I was a victim in a way. But I prefer, like many others, to think of myself as a survivor - and that is a survivor of life in general, not just of Domestic Violence.)

"Guess who touched me on the arm in the supermarket yesterday?" She says in an animated fashion. I shake my head. "M!" she shouts with glee, "you know, your old flame?" I nod my head and she continues with enthusiasm. "He asked after you". She is pleased to have seen him and I look at her in amazement.

She is talking about a man that she didn't really approve of all those years ago, he had tattooed arms ( I was instructed from an early age to "never bring a man home with a motor bike or tattoos!") and long hair - though no bike - and she had said that he had no table manners at all. She thought he was lazy and not suitable (despite owning his own company) and "was he seeing someone else?". I will always remember that line because I was never quite sure myself. Yet here she was talking about him like an old friend (though she had warmed to him over the 6 or more years we were together.)

"I just happened to have some photographs of you all, I'd just collected from Boots" She continued. Goodness me she has shown him photographs? "He has 2 girls now you know?" I did. "He says tall Girl looks just like you"
"Poor thing, everyone says that to her." I reply as I make a swift mental calculation and realise I was hardly 3 years older than she is now when I first met him.

As she carried on I began to remember parts of those 6 years, or was it 7. The images flashed through my head at speed, like a film-strip flicking on a stark white wall superimposed on the current view of my mother sitting in her conservatory. Each scene played for only seconds but were none the less vivid: The fist through the car windscreen, from the inside; the blue room, in a fairly grim B&B in Dartmouth, and the searing pain of sex, as I lay silent and he ground down on top of me without my consent; the view from the back of the ambulance as we sped to hospital to have pills pumped from his stomach; the promise I made afterwards - how many others had said those same lines?

"He says he thought he saw you the other day" She smiled as she delivered this piece of news "and I told him you'd love to have had a chat" I smile back, remembering better times, times when he could talk me out of a black mood and make everything in the world seem so much better, just with words. The time he stroked my head until an agonising migraine had passed; his last note to me - everything will be alright.
"He says he often thinks of you kindly" She finished

How strange, until now, I had never thought of him at all.

Missing

Sculpture at University of Bristol
Botanic Garden, artist unknown.

My Daughters Blog is growing at quite a speed, she's getting followers every day, girls her age mostly, which I'm pleased about and she has all that excitement (do you remember what it was like?) every time she gets a new comment.

I did a deal with the devil  Ex Husband this Easter holidays. In order to be able to have my children during the Whitsun week - all of it- I had to forgo a week of this Easter holidays. It has been fine, I adapt to the time without them surprisingly well - or I think I do - and use it to get things done, start and finish (and that really is a revelation!) small projects and see friends. It is quite satisfying to have accomplished something visible during a non working week.

I have been just over a week without them now and today when I was tidying Tall Girls room I came across something she needed for school tomorrow. I text her asking if she really needs it (they are not home until Wednesday - see what I mean about the deal? It's a long time) She texts back that she does need it and I say I'll drop it round. It feels a slight inconvenience to travel in that direction, I still drive along the well-to-do tree lined streets thinking about other times and 'what ifs'.

I pull onto the drive and she comes to the door, my beautiful Tall Girl and it's then when I realise how much I have missed her and how much I need to hug her to me like a newborn child again. Now that she is fully grown she is as beautiful to hug as she was as a baby, more so perhaps and even more precious now because she is only on loan to me and the time is nearly up, fully grown and 16 this year, she is well on the way to being mine no longer.

We hug a lot just there on the threshold of the house that used to be mine, the one I cooked and cleaned in, the one I ran single-handed for so many years.

Small Sprog appears and sticks his head up the back of Tall Girls hoody. She remonstrates, while I hug him too and whisper how much I love him. I say good bye and see you Wednesday and I'm gone.

A Stinky Cat Post

Yes he may look like 'butter wouldn't melt' but there's
 cat nagging in there like you wouldn't believe!

Stinkey cat is miffed. He doesn't like it if I have a night away even though my lovely neighbours come in to feed, check and give him a cuddle. When I come home he complains, big time. He doesn't shut up bending my ear for days after, it's cruelty to humans this constant cat nagging and he won't leave me alone, like a little shadow he trots around after me. I might as well have got myself a dog! I am still doing penance for last Easter weekend even though it's now Friday again.

Last night I go upstairs to get ready to go out. I make sure I have a little lie on the bed with him first and give him a cootch around his ears and he smiles that cat smile - insincere? Who knows?

The minute I get up from the bed he's on the alert. I look at him. Eye contact is always a mistake; he miaows. I try to avoid his eyes as I move around the bedroom getting ready to go out. As I walk past him to go into the bathroom he complains again. "You really aren't that endearing at all" I say to him as I reach for my perfume. I come back into the room to find he has disappeared (he can do this completely silently, like the Cheshire Cat) it is almost a relief, there's only so many insults a proud cat can take I think to myself.

I pick up my things and walk out onto the landing, there he is ready to ambush...

Perhaps

Just recently I have spent time with my Lovely Man's family as well as my own parents and although visiting my own oddball parents is an adventure in itself, Lovely Man's parents house is usually more full and lively. This is probably due to the fact that Lovely Man is so much younger than myself and therefore so are his parents; he also has a bigger family and I am lucky to feel equally at home in both places.

So now that my eldest offspring is almost closer to 16 than 15, I find myself wondering what it will be like to have them 'home to visit' with various friends and boyfriends when they are older. Will I still be such an embarrassment that they won't bring their friends home at all? Perhaps even they won't want to come? Or will they just come home to humour me? Will the Not So Small Sprog walk through the front door, straight to the kitchen and stick his head in the fridge to see what's for lunch? For that last one, I hope so.

How will it be? There is much to look forward to I hope but I dare not to imagine it for fear of it not turning out as planned.

Sitting here now, in Lovely Man's Parents House, the window open and bird song in abundance, I want this paradise for my own family. I want the house in the country with fruit trees and space all around. Yet I am already middle aged. This prize is the one afforded to people who marry young and stay together through thick and thin, who build on the foundations of solid jobs and hard work, who bring their children up in a stable family, no bags packed for weekends with daddy, no halving of the marital home or working part time because there's not much else available right now.

Someone once told me that I would be jeopardising my financial future if I left my marriage. They were right of course and I knew so at the time. Yet I felt and still feel that to stay together for financial and material reasons alone would be like throwing away life itself. To not feel love or be loved.

Someone else once told me that to achieve anything, to reach your goal, you have to have a plan. Dare I plan or even dream? Does it seem fruitless, when half your life is over, to keep striving for perfection?

This is what I have begun to ask myself. Yet I guess in a way I already have the answer. In these last three years life has changed beyond all recognition. I have invented a new life for myself; perhaps it is a new life or perhaps it is just one more point along the axis from start to finish. Maybe, still, anything is possible. We just have to make it happen.

Orchid house

At the Botanical Gardens again, in one of the hot houses we found some orchids.

Sadly my camera ran out of battery so the quality of these pictures isn't too good. Luckily I had my ipad to hand and took them on that. It was only in the rucksack because I had a Voucher Code on it so that we could have cheap pizza afterwards - but that's another story!

I love theses ones, they looked as though they had rags hanging from them

these are my favourites, they look a bit evil don't you think?

The ones below are also favourites, all so wonderful and 'other worldly'

The other bonus was that it was lovely and warm in the greenhouses!

And by the way...

Happy Easter!