When I lived in France I was quite happy to be alone, in fact I often resented unexpected visitors. When I was writing and painting I hid my car behind a fence and trees. I hid myself upstairs and ignored the knocks on the door. It was similar when I exchanged the painting and writing for gardening.
At that time my life revolved around the garden. The garden became my life. It occupied all my thoughts and time. I couldn't wait to get out there each morning and I went to sleep reliving the day and planning tomorrow. If I went shopping I frequently returned with something for the garden. If I went out for pleasure it was to visit a garden centre or even better a public garden.
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| Forget-me-nots in full flower in the meditation garden |
At first obviously I spent the first days and weeks arranging furniture and all my belongings of which I have too many. But I am a hoarder and continue to arrange and rearrange "stuff" which perhaps I should throw away.
As I have lived in this town in the past, in fact all my life until I moved to France I explored the green places I remembered. It was exciting to begin with. The most important in my memory was/ is Bathpool.
When I was a teenager I spent days and evenings with my friends walking around the lake. Sometimes when the weather was hot the lads used to swim in the lake. The girls were ordered to build a fire so that when they came out of the water they could dry their clothes and get warm.
My boyfriend, later my husband held my hand as we walked around the lake.
My son went fishing there. He camped over night and I took him food. I walked the dog around the lake. When grandchildren
arrived I took them too. Once I remember they paddled and played on the tiny beach. I think there is a photo somewhere.
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