"A Ghastly Parody of Spring"

May began with such promise but then came snow, wind, frost 

and rain.  So, we had returned to our winter woollies, but today, 

the wind has chased away the rainstorm clouds and we 

have dusted-off the garden furniture and taken it out of 

winter storage in the outbuilding. 

 We have been told that, during the war, a cow was kept here.  

The climbing hydrangea on the east wall is just coming into leaf and the magpies are foraging for those special finishing touches for the enormous nest they are building in the pear tree.

Torrential rains have made it impossible to mow the grass and the lawns have grown into wild meadows with drifts of tiny mauve, pinky flowers which, I'm sure, any cow would consider a delicacy.   I don't know what they are but these wild flowers, (some might call them weeds), are now prettily decorating the whole house.

My geraniums have survived a long, cold winter in the Doll House cellars and now deserve plenty of sunshine and heat.

  

However, the evenings are so cold that we still crave the warmth from the wood-burning stove in the chill of dusk.

I found this decanter in a second-hand shop: it beckoned me from a distant shelf where it stood, forlornly ignored by  the many "treasure seekers". It is stamped with the mark of the Bergdal Glass Studio and on closer examination, is etched with the signature of Mats Theselius who designed this for Swedish Glass in the 1990s. So, I decided it deserved this little silver Danish wine label.

The very spindly blue glass  candlestick was made by Wedgwood and considering the thinness of the stem, it is a miracle that it still survives.  It's twin, sadly didn't. 

So, while "rough winds do shake the darling buds of May" I sit toasting my toes in front of the fire,  reflecting on

May 2012 - "A ghastly parody of spring"

Anna