Friday 28th May

Day 39

When I come to fill the patio pots with the bedding plants I bought on Wednesday, at the time I’d set aside for it, the sky is nearly black and the wind makes me hug my arms. So I hesitate, check the red geraniums and yellow daises and pink verbena all jostled together in a cardboard box are still damp, and decide another day would be better.

Now I wish I’d seized the moment, defied the rain on the wind and my tiredness. I notice how prickly everything is - like an inside out hedgehog - when I’m putting something off. Planting or writing.

Tonight though I did discover what’s the softest thing in the whole world. It was when I cupped the top of a baby’s head in my palm and couldn’t find words for it.