Tuesday, December 14, 2021

Paperwhites, tiles and painting.

1. To glance over at my paperwhites: another of the five has burst out of its buds. I wasn't going to this year. We plant them as a symbol of hope, and to remember the journalist Elspeth Thompson. But I've had a succession of dud bulbs and limp strappy leaves flopping blindly over the Christmas mantlepiece, and I got discouraged. But Anna made me -- literally dropped a packet of good quality bulbs round so I had to plant them. Every time I look over at the brass pot of creamy white flowers by the kitchen door, I remember her optimism in the face of discouragement. 

2. After days of dust and disorder, our bathroom is re-tiled and we can move our things back in to their familiar places. It's a thrill to glance up and be surprised by the new tiles every time I go up the stairs. 

3. Bettany says again that she would like one of Uncle Steven's paintings in her room, and it's not the one Alec wants for his room.