Patriotism is a funny thing. I love, love, love where I live. I love the damp cold winters of England and the green springs and disappointing summers. I even love the red hot, humid days where everyone wilst and complains, but drags out the barbeque determined to enjoy the heat while it lasts, certain that winter will return next week. Maybe it's not just England that I love, but Englishness, with all it's eccentricities.
Saying that, I've got to the point of boiling rage with some 'friends' on Facebook joining xenophobic groups, using football as the excuse. I had to tear myself away on Saturday because I could feel myself getting far too hot and bothered. I've simmered all weekend, and really should let it go because it's doing me no good at all.
I feel sad that national pride has been banjaxed by a few idiots. It's a shame that any patriotism feels somehow equal to racism. Anyway, it's with this in mind that I have been crafting all weekend, and I am blogging this morning.
At this time of year The Cottage garden is stunning. It is heady with the scent of lilac.
And as colourful as can be:
Yet still full of texture. Everyday on the way to school, Charlie and I stop and blow dandelion clocks.
We've made daisy chains, faces from leaves and shone buttercups under our chins. It makes me smile how these traditions pass from one generation to the next, and how much Charlie loves them.
The bees are beside themselves - drunk with pollen. In fact some get so stuffed that they're too heavy to fly back into their hives and they die. This makes me a bit sad. The rape seed is out near us and it's a glorious sea of yellow.
Number three hive looks as though it might swarm, which is concerning Dom. It already has two supers on and is ram packed with eggs and capped honey. Last year two hives swarmed on the same day and Dom had to go and rescue them in a cardboard box, so we're being super careful this year. He's trying to decide whether to add another super (box full of empty frames for them to build honeycomb in), or whether to split the colony in two, each with their own hive. We lost two of our five colonies over winter, so that would help us get the numbers back up.
Anyway, I must dash as I have things to make. Bet you can't guess what I've been up to these hot spring days? Can you? Well, to give you a hint....
With love, Claire xx