Three friends, a birthday to celebrate, and a sensational spring day.
What more could you ask for.
We are not the only ones enjoying the sunshine. As we head to a table by the wall I can see three small girls chasing each other around the vegetable beds.
It is so much more fun with three.
I know I shouldn't ... I'm not supposed to...
We are not the only ones enjoying the sunshine. As we head to a table by the wall I can see three small girls chasing each other around the vegetable beds.
It is so much more fun with three.
I know I shouldn't ... I'm not supposed to... but I really want to feel what the earth feels like between my toes ...
Older (but not necessarily wiser) I really want to sip Champagne in the sunshine with my friends.
And then it is back to work, but not before my friend Jane has bought some skimmia plants for her garden.
As Jane and Michelle are browsing amongst the plants I sit on a low stone wall and stare out over the garden. My daydream is interrupted by a man sitting in the orchard answering his mobile phone. His conversation is not quiet, he paces to and fro as he speaks, his voice rises above the gentle murmur of the garden. Am I cross? Do I want to have a sharp word with him? (well, perhaps not a sharp word ... I am too English for that) Do I want to tut meaningfully? Well, not really, he is speaking Italian. I have no idea what he is saying, but it sounds magnificent.
Before we finally drag ourselves back to work I introduce myself to Heather the gardener who has been industriously hoeing beds whilst we have been playing. I am coming back to have coffee with Heather on Friday to find out more about her plans for the garden.
Older (but not necessarily wiser) I really want to sip Champagne in the sunshine with my friends.
And then it is back to work, but not before my friend Jane has bought some skimmia plants for her garden.
As Jane and Michelle are browsing amongst the plants I sit on a low stone wall and stare out over the garden. My daydream is interrupted by a man sitting in the orchard answering his mobile phone. His conversation is not quiet, he paces to and fro as he speaks, his voice rises above the gentle murmur of the garden. Am I cross? Do I want to have a sharp word with him? (well, perhaps not a sharp word ... I am too English for that) Do I want to tut meaningfully? Well, not really, he is speaking Italian. I have no idea what he is saying, but it sounds magnificent.
Before we finally drag ourselves back to work I introduce myself to Heather the gardener who has been industriously hoeing beds whilst we have been playing. I am coming back to have coffee with Heather on Friday to find out more about her plans for the garden.I can't wait.
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