Outside the temperature rose and the garden took on a mediterranean feel. In the evenings it was most odd to find only Martha pottering about making potions from petals, or constructing tiny tents for Sylvanians. Matilda’s 14th birthday came and went. Without her. That felt very strange.
Although I relished the peace and quiet, not to mention the relief at being several steps ahead of the diminished wrecking crew, I was surprised by how unsettled I felt by the absence of my eldest daughters. There were no fights, no doors were slammed and the mountain of laundry didn’t just shrink, it disappeared. There was only one packed lunch to prepare and then throw away at the end of the day (do other people’s children subsist on thin air?). I cleared out cupboards, sorted through the mess in both girls’ bedrooms, and chipped away at all the boring life admin that so often gets overlooked until it’s too late.
But the overwhelming feeling has been one of suspended animation. In fact there have been moments when I felt as though I’d lost a limb, or two. A foretaste, I suppose, of when the girls finally leave home.
Bea returned last Friday having had a fantastic time, and it was wonderful to have her back. But the house won’t feel quite right until I have all three girls back home. And I don’t have long to wait now, as Matilda returns in just a few hours.
According to the itinerary on my pin board, she’ll be at the airport now and home by about 8.30 this evening.
These are the flowers that I picked this morning (roses, geraniums and nepeta) to create a belated birthday bunch, not unlike the ones I picked for her birthday last year. My favourite rose, Ferdinand Pichard, is tucked in to the right of the central rose in the top photograph. I have much more to say about my roses, but I’ll save that for another time. For now I’m linking this post to Little Green Shed’s lovely Nature in the Home series, which I have been following for weeks now and enjoying enormously.