Haar-umph

A small window of such glorious weather. It has allowed me to tick many gardening/allotment/greenhouse tasks off my list before abandoning it all again for another trip!

I heard someone talking recently about how, when they retired, they didn't just want to be someone who potters in the garden. I was utterly taken aback and completely offended. I can spend whole days with my hands in soil. It feeds my soul, my family, and many friends and neighbours. It provides order and calm to my life. It helps deal with any issues life throws at me. I revert to the garden to think it through. I am fitter than many.... yadda, yadda, yadda. Time to stop the rant. Each to their own, but if Im not allowed to say certain things for fear of offending some zen gen, then I'm starting an oppressed minority of happy gardeners.

All that is a bit tongue in cheek. But I did think his comment was insensitive, and it's not the first.

We strolled Porty Prom today. The Haar was coming in thick and fast. People were packing up and leaving pronto. It wasn't warm, despite how it looks. I stood watching it all. I love the seaside, the noises, smells, and snippets of conversation.

In my schooldays, I wrote an essay about the arrival and packing up of a beach day. My English teacher gave me an A+ and read it out to the class. I was mortified, of course, as any self-respecting teenager would be. But today, I'm very proud of that small moment.