At The Flower House, Penzance, Cornwall - my precious, longed for, respite week - I fell ill immediately.....stayed in bed for long hours - reading, sleeping, watching DVDS and in the afternoons while it rained and stormed outside I lit log fires.....
concocted luscious salads......
and juiced greens I brought with me from the allotment with apples and celery, cucumbers limes and ginger...
and nearly every night feasted on melting buttery Cornish new potatoes, sweet carrots and snappy asparagus. I trailed from bed to sofa to table to bath with a box of tissues - for my streaming nose and fresh layers of grief.....so grateful to be alone and free...to feel ill and not responsible for anyone.
On the penultimate day feeling wobbly and weak I ventured out into the blustery wind and
walked down the cliff path at the Minnack Theatre to Porthcurno beach, taking photos of the wild flowers,
and the not quite deserted beach.
I still have the remnants of my cold....I didn't want to come home except to relieve my sister. I miss my hideaway retreat....but can't get away from myself wherever I am.
I came home to a new sadness too. My dear cousin died five days ago - the gentlest, kindest, loveliest man - still young hearted - hollowed out with cancer. We accompanied him on part of his mission in the last few years to walk the South West Coastal Path - which he did - an amazing achievement.
He was with me when I took this glowing Agapanthus flower as we descended the steep path into St Ives one wild and wet summer morning a few years ago. Now I dedicate it to him and his big kind heart....... and that laugh in his voice - like his father's - that was never far away and will stay with me always.
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