I was talking to my big brother at the weekend about whether or not to post on the blog my journal about my father’s dying, and I realised something. When I’m writing my blog I feel as though you, dear readers, are sitting in my kitchen, and we’re having a chat and it just happens to be my turn to speak.
Do you remember last year’s sweet peas? How for the first summer in goodness knows how long, they failed? This year I have planted them somewhere else…in front of the strawberry patch, to see if the new location makes a difference.
And the compost is mature this time. So fingers crossed. If they fail this year, I am giving up.
But what I really want to say, dear friends sitting round my kitchen table, is this: I really miss Mary.