Last of the Summer Wine.

The recent unexpected sunshine has brought with it the temptation to walk rather than work; it seems a shame to sit at a desk when the weather is so mild and the winter months and darker days are only weeks away. We visited the nearby Victorian garden at Biddulph Grange and came away with a young Monkey Puzzle tree: no doubt a great mistake as they can grow huge and our garden is miniscule. The gardens at Biddulph have many themes, my favourite is the Japanese garden which has a lovely lake surrounded by ornamental trees. Ever since I was a child I have longed to visit Japan, maybe one day..... If my six numbers ever come up!

I took this photograph of a nearby lake, a favourite with dog walkers and fishermen alike. Although access is restricted you can walk around part of the lake and into the nearby woods. Our little dog used to love this walk, so much so we scattered his ashes nearby. I like to think his spirit is happy here, I am sure it is. We made so many friends walking our dog in these woods, so many people from different walks of life, all united by their love of dogs. In fact, we have kept in touch with many of them and because most of them are in the autumn of their years I am often reminded of the TV series "Last of the Summer Wine".

When I was not walking I was painting, this time more miniatures. My subject matter has been linked to lakes and water so it was a special treat to listen to Radio 3 whilst I worked. One piece of music has lodged in my mind; Sibelius 5th Symphony, a song for swans inspired by the sight of sixteen swans circling above a lake near the composer's home.

My garden has been full of butterflies this year, so it would be unreasonable of me to object to the many caterpillars that have been happily munching their way through my nasturtiums, I think they are cabbage white? It was fascinating to watch tremendous battles between wasps and caterpillars. The larger ones seemed capable of thwacking the wasps with their bodies as they flicked them away into the path of smaller, less able ones. The wasps made short shrift of the younger caterpillars and gobbled them up greedily. I checked back today and they have all disappeared and the plants seem to have survived ok. I have collected lots of seed for next year just in case.

Shakespeare's gardens.

May has been a month of flowers, gardens and Shakespeare. We visited Stratford-upon-Avon to see Henry 1V part one then onto London to see King Lear at The National. The latter is not a play for the queasy, or for those who faint at the sight of blood. I believe such people are referred to as "droppers"! My husband had the tickets bought as birthday presents and it was just coincidence we had something of a Shakespeare fest. Both plays were magnificent and the acting was superb, as you would expect, in particular Simon Russell Beale who played Kind Lear.



Stratford was every bit as beautiful as you would imagine. Elizabethan buildings to explore and gardens to delight. So much to see, museums and houses connected with the bard and his family. I particularly love the knot gardens, they always remind me of embroidery. Books and bookshops everywhere-



We live in a world of computer graphics, television and film and are used to seeing fantastic recreations of the past and yet the theatre still holds such magic. Both productions excelled when in came to scenery, lighting and costumes; these combined with the acting skills of the players and the magic of Shakespeare’s words left a great impression. In the days that followed I found myself relating to the words “Nothing will come of nothing”. Each time I try a new venture there is a voice, which tells me that nothing will ever come of such a thing. If I publish my book nobody will ever buy it, if I paint a new subject nobody will ever like it, the list of self-doubt goes on and yet, if we don’t even try then nothing will surely come from nothing? I know there are many interpretations to that particular saying but that is my understanding of it.



And so, with that in mind, I try my hand yet again at painting in miniature and try not to dwell on the wisdom (or foolery), which persuaded me to self publish my own books.



We have also enjoyed the most wonderful May sunshine and our own little garden has been awash with flowers which self-seeded from last year. The aquilegias in particular have been prolific. When I say “self seeded” that is not entirely true as last year I went around the garden like some crazy woman shaking the dried flower heads from last years crop.