Impromptu

We found ourselves preparing lunch for seven, plus a 2.5-year-old and a 9-month-old, that we weren't really expecting. I cycled to the butcher, who did not miss a beat when I asked for 'something without meat'. Our daughter - who used to do this sort of thing as a job - conjured up a slaw from nothing. Compartments in the fridge and freezer yielded up some contributions. A small bag of salad leaves somehow copied the loaves-and-fishes routine. MrsM orchestrated like a maestro. Sunshine and dappled apple-tree shade made all the difference. Children provide a garnish of joy and optimism.

Somewhere in the mêlée we managed small bursts of serious conversation: the administration of death; the process of grief; balancing the remembrance and celebration of a life with the need to accept and embrace the new reality

Now I've written it down, I'm not surprised we are looking forward to a quiet Sunday

The dry, bright spring continues, with no end in sight. The 'd' word appears with increasing frequency. The light is magical though, especially early and late. I think I took a picture of the plant as an excuse to include the glowing stone and sharp shadows. The flowers are Sicilian Honey Garlic. It is indeed a native of the Mediterranean around Sicily, it does attract bees and it is a close relative of culinary garlic, so fair enough, but it still feels like a name you would read in a romantic novel on a summer holiday