This has definitely got to be one of my weirder Mothering Sundays. I'm holed up with my 3 favourite boys - one of whom is of the canine variety, and I'm struggling to get my head around what's happening in the world. As my mum says: "I've never known anything like it," and she's lived through some very interesting times.
Mr B and I conformed to our cultural stereotypes as soon as the self-isolating thing was announced: he trotted off to buy a big bag of paella rice, and I headed off to the garden centre to load up on seed potatoes and horse manure. It wasn't your typical panic buying spree, but it gave us a fleeting sense of control over our own destinies.
My big obsession right now is with growing salad: I've just harvested my first crop of cress, grown on my windowsill, where another crop of micro-salad is looking good for later in the week - fingers crossed!
I'm really lucky to have a little garden outside. At least on a glorious sunny day like today it offers a safe sanctuary from the cares of the world. Out there this morning these long stemmed, delicately scented violets are really rocking the spring sunshine. In the language of flowers the little violet is supposed to symbolise abundance, which seems like a tall order for such a dainty little fellow.
Anyway, wishing you an abundance of everything you need,
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