I stand at my kitchen window with my hands in a sink full of bubbly hot water and used dinner plates. I watch the droplets of rain slide down the window and I long to get outside to tend to my garden. My hot, soapy hands yearn to be plunged deep into the rich, damp soil of my vegetable patch and flower pots.
Days pass, and the rain continues to pour. Sunday morning arrives and I turn my attention to my study books as I bury my head underneath a pile of psychological material. I attempt to write the last essay of the year, but the sun begins to shine and I feel panic because I can't be outside. I'm now distracted and I pray that the sun continues to shine way after I finish my work.
My positive thinking clearly worked, as early Monday morning my sleep is pleasantly interrupted by a chorus of cheery birdsong and as I rub my eyes I can see a bright light penetrating my purple bedroom curtains. I fling open the shiny fabric that is obstructing the morning sun and a golden ray of sunshine suddenly beams in through the glass of the window. I jump up, quickly getting showered and dressed, my mind races with plans to spend the day cooking alfresco.
I make my way out into the garden cupping a fresh coffee and I'm pleasantly surprised to find that Papa Syder is already outside surveying the kids pool. I'm confused at what time he must have got up. Did I oversleep? I thought it was much earlier, I rarely ever sleep in. My confusion deepens, then I suddenly remember that I was still working on my essay until 2 am, so my extra hour in bed is therefore, fully justified.
Papa smiles as he suggests a trip to Tesco for sunny weather supplies. My heart sinks as I know everyone in town will be there. I'm not keen on the idea of being sent on a quest for burgers or for fighting frantic shoppers for the last packet of finger buns on the supermarket shelf. I kick myself for not being more prepared.
The shopping trip was not as bad as I initially expected and I arrive home heavily laden with supplies for an impromptu garden gathering. Papa has already fired up the bbq coals, eager to get started. The children are aimlessly floating across the top the giant blue paddling pool, Enid Blyton accompanying them on their journey as they are taken on an adventure that they will never forget.
I softly smile, feeling content as I watch the Family peacefully enjoy my garden. A quote by Mark Twain comes to mind “Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.”
I am happy with the space that I have created, it serves its purpose well, however my imagination is always thinking up new creative projects to improve it, even further. I guess a gardener's job is never complete.
As the sunlight dims and dusk falls, the garden changes its function as it transforms itself into a campsite. Tired campers drift off the sleep effortlessly to the sound of the cuckoo calling.