I know I've 'done' daffodils already this year, but they are just so beautiful and colourful and triumphant outside the cottage, they just scream "Spring, spring, spring – summer is on the way!".
So many different types and looks, bit like people really. Some are very simple and almost formal in look, others a mix of colour and textures, a fashion statement in their own right.
I love the broken flowers, I have always had a thing about old flowers, their character is wonderful, there is amazing beauty in imperfection. Far more interesting than a perfect bloom.
I always remember a friend who, whenever we saw the first daffodils of spring and I would go all soppy and say "aren't they gorgeous, don't they make you feel good", right away she'd reply "they'll be dead soon". I must admit I was a wee bit shocked the first time she said this. So shocked that I remembered the comment a year later when the daffodils were again lining the road en route to the shops.
"Aren't they gorgeous" I said. Oh yes, you guessed it, she replied with exactly the same line about them being dead soon. I couldn't let it pass. I asked her why she said that. Her reason, "Of course they'll be dead soon, flowers always die". It was her outlook on everything in life. It was strange because she could be fun and have a laugh. But her real deep down feelings were very dark, she saw an almost empty glass, not even a glass half empty or better still half full.
Funny how a throw-away comment can stick in your mind. Eventually our friendship fizzled out,we were too different in outlook even to really enjoy coffee and a chat.
Daffodils and Easter, they go together like peas in a pod, gin and tonic, salt and pepper.
What are you doing for Easter weekend? I'm off to stay at Rosemary's tomorrow, we're hoping for sunshine and run out in Tigger.
I'll come home on Easter Sunday, but this is the first time in twelve years that I won't be getting up at 5am on Easter Sunday and hiding eggs in the garden and placing a hand drawn map at the door. "I'm too old for the egg hunt now" It broke my heart, my baby is growing up.
So rather than wake up here on Easter morning and feel the inevitable sadness at the passage of time and a twinge of hurt that she doesn't want me to hide those eggs and make my maps any more, I'll stay away and come home after the magical Easter morning hours are over. I shall hand over an Easter egg to my growning up daughter and smile at what a delightful young lady is is becoming.
Sod it, maybe I'll just hide one or two eggs anyway…..