It was a beautiful weekend at the cottage, and I am using the word beautiful literally. The flowers in front of the house were in high bloom, I would regale you with a list of names if I knew flowers’ names. There were roses, of a couple different colors, and some big violet things which may have actually been violets, like I say, I don’t know the names of flowers, and nine or ten other kinds.
The cherries, gooseberries, red and black currants, and raspberries were all just waiting to be picked so I did a couple of hours of that just after arriving and there is no activity I find more relaxing and better for contemplation (an older word for meditation) than picking fruit. There is so much on every tree, on every bush, that it makes me wonder how world hunger is possible. It is a horribly mismanaged world we live in.
Apples and plums are still a bit in the future, maybe next time.
After that kicked a football around with my nephew Patrick,who is 7, and then jumped in the pool, one of those little above ground pools that kids love so much, and all of the kids were in there and were going nuts. Then Helena and I took a walk up the hill past the village, saw a deer and picked some wild flowers for the table.
We went to bed really early, like nightfall, because what else? Which meant that I was up early this morning, my favorite time of day, city or country, walking around when no one else is up. Went down to the pond, one neighbor has 4 horses who were never there before, then came back and picked a bucket of cherries and a basket of red currants before anyone else woke up, then some more time in the pool, a bit of badminton, super fresh trout with butter sauce for lunch, and then home.
Highlight of the weekend: my wife’s grandmother, who had a stroke last autumn and was in really bad shape for a long time, went out for a walk. With a walker, and with my father in law, and they probably didn’t go far, but still, it was great to see.
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