Easter Sunday and I'm managing to avoid the gloom that often sits around me on this holiday weekend. Partly due to the weather being brighter and warmer than most recent Easters; partly due to having come to an acceptance of the loss of my church (feels like another life now) and mostly due to just being happy relaxing with the family.
I used to worry about our family life. I would look at other families and envy their size, adjustment, relationships and dynamics (rather in the way that I would read Good Housekeeping and set myself unrealistic aspirations of Christmas perfection - who needs 7 different outfits to take you from a crisp walk home from church to apperitifs with the neighbours to dinner for 24, etc, etc? 'Parties ... owe much of their success to the thought expended on food and drink. Even the impromptu need not take the hostess by surprise if the store cupboard is kept well-stocked with pastry shells in airtight tins and good supplies of canned and bottled delicacies.').
As I grew older and spent more time with other people and their families the more I realised that the families I put on pedestals had more dark secrets than we could ever hold a candle to and we often drove away from time spent with them saying "Wow, I'm glad we aren't like them!"
Now I relish and celebrate us as a family - small, but perfectly formed.
Continuing in a spring vein, we found this perfect little snake'shead fritillary hiding in the garden behind the dwarf (not!) choisya. It's beautiful.
At the other end of the size spectrum, we moved the banana into it's new home in the border nearest the deck. It has lived in progressively larger pots each year so far, but now is the time to release it into the wild of the garden. We'll still have to wrap it in the winter.
I finished the sweater for Ruby. It's ready to take down to Rotherham tomorrow.
Another finished object: felted Kureyon knitting bag. Started life as a tank top, but I suspect that had it remained one, it would have looked rather like I was wearing a knitting bag. It's lined in cotton to stop needles poking through and to give it extra stability. The buttons are four little ceramic sheep I bought at the Edinburgh festival in 1985. I always knew that if I hung onto them something would come up that they would suit...