The perfume patch, Philippa and Premiership

Oh heck! Someone is reading my blog! A. in Oz has just emailed me to say she is going to order the Julia Darling book (which is about ONE family's life- not generally about family life- in Newcastle). It is frightening to think someone is reading this. I MUST learn to put photos herein.

All the red and white England flags, including mine ,are down; it is folded and installed back in top shelf of the wardrobe till next April 23rd; however I might dig it out again for Eurovision even if our song is naff!

I have been eating out a lot- B.& C's birthday at Avanti; Aroma with friends; Bacchus, Paradiso then an excellent SSAFA concert with more friends. D3 took that opportunity to have a dinner party for friends. I am thinking thin and doing lots of walking but.......

H & I went to hear Philippa Gregory talk at Alnwick Castle- part of the Hexham Book Festival. I think she has convinced me I shouldn't bother writing; Philippa is SO intelligent, well researched and articulate- I am about to give up- particularly since my class didn't kick in any inspiration. I am reading 'Cold Mountain' now.



Hyacinths remind me of the sweet perfume lingering in the silent darkness of the corridor in the Princess Mary maternity hospital (now expensive apartments) the night I had D3; every time I have hyacinths I plant them around the edge of my rose garden (patch!!) by the patio; it is filled with 'Cheerfulness' which are drifted smiling and white to the left of my bench. Summer sun has drawn us out to lunch al fresco in a garden heady with perfume and colour. Kerria's tiny, gold pompoms (Jews'mallow) and 'Red Robin ' leaves flush the fence at the back of the western border; aubretia and 'snow on the mountain' carpet the front of the bed. I walk the bounds.......



Spring has hit the Toon big time.The grass verges are studded with dandelions; the trees are unfurling their first, limey green leaves; the Town Moor is nestling a herd of black and white cows; the city is lined with slow moving crocodiles of black and white shirts all moving to St. James' Park; lawns are sprinkled with daisies and the cricket pitch resounds to Asian 'whites' smacking leather balls on willow.

The RVI and the Sanderson Childrens' hospital are both now heaps of rubble with turquoise gumboils arising on Queen Victoria Road to replace the former.