We spent a week in rural Canterbury recently, camping out at my Dad’s place and trying to visit as many family members as possible. My family puts the fun into dysfunctional so it is an exercise in patience and negotiation with a large side serving of smile and nod. When it works, it is a thing of beauty.
The opportunity for Boyo to just hang out with his beloved Grandpa and see his cousins and his extremely cool Unka Munka is worth any amount of stress. My Grandies are in the process of moving into a retirement home. My Granddad is in the nursing home and my Grandma is responsible for packing up 63 years of married life before she moves in a little cottage in the same facility. I was only able to help out for a very short period of time, but being able to do even a little bit to help soothed my heart considerably.
Unfortunately, one after the other, Boyo, Grandpa and I were all struck down with a hideous vomitty bug, which severely curtailed our visiting time with my Grandies.
The beauty of my Dad’s garden, in equal measures structured and untamed, went a long way towards refuelling the battered spirits. Enjoy!
I hope I’ve inherited a smidgen of his green thumb. The past year, I’ve managed to prune lavender successfully so that it flowers again, rather than dying as usually occurs for me. I’ve replanted my entire Tropage garden with ground cover from existing plants. My frangipani, gardenias and jasmine have all delighted me with their gorgeous flowers and exotic scent. I’d say a little of his magic may have just rubbed off.