Wood Anemone

I spent the day caring for my mother. She called me three times this morning, first asking me to bring all my keys, and then pliers and screwdrivers, because she had locked her study (which is actually used as storeroom and pantry) and could not find the key anymore. 
I hurried up with my cooking and drove to her house, where I searched for the key first, before starting to disassemble the door. Thankfully I found it in one of her usual hiding places in the kitchen.

We ate lunch and I did her laundry while she napped. Then we had coffee on the terrace and I took this photo of some of the pretty anemones that grow wild in her garden. 

There's a little greenhouse, which she always used to overwinter the big pots with oleanders and fuchsias she had on the terrace in summer. When I went into the greenhouse today, I found that most of the plants have died, because no-one has watered them for ages. My mother had forgotten all about them, her carer didn't see it as part of her job to care for the plants as well, and I obviously didn't check on them often enough. 

I always knew that these old plants would have to go at some point. But it still made me sad to see their withered, dead remains like that, and I now feel quite guilty for not looking after them.