Hawthorn berries in the garden

Dear Readers, it’s been a week when I’ve been doing a few things that I used to take for granted until ‘the fall’ at the end of June. On Saturday I had my first shower – I’d been advised not to get my leg wet until all the wounds from the op were completely healed. What a pleasure it was! I used so much shower gel that I’m going to have to get some new stuff. You can keep perfectly clean while washing in the bathroom sink, but somehow you don’t feel ‘clean’ without using silly quantities of water. I still can’t get in the bath (for one thing, I’m not sure if I’d be able to get out) or swim, but baby steps!

And then today, I went to see my therapist in person, which involved walking on East Finchley High Road all by myself. I allowed twice my usual time – I can normally get there in 3 minutes, but today it took 7. Then, I crossed the road and bought two Big Issues from the lady outside Budgens, and she gave me an enormous hug, which was much appreciated. Then, into Café Nero (I’m going to Coffee Bank later today, so decided to have a change. The barista took one look at my crutch and offered to bring the Flat White and Pain au Chocolat to my table. Lovely! And then a slow hobble home, and a cup of tea in the garden.

I feel as if I’ve missed the summer this year – the hawthorn is already covered in berries. The hemp agrimony has turned into its ‘wet mop’ stage.

But the greater willowherb is still going strong.

And the honeysuckle is having a second burst of flowers.

The squirrels are hoovering up the sunflower seeds, while a scruffy robin watches from the lilac.

And the sedum/hylotelephium that I thought was white is opening in the palest pink.

Under the whitebeam, the hoverflies are, well, hovering, patrolling their three-dimensional territories in the sunshine before pausing for a little rest.

And the climbing hydrangea flowers are mellowing into the brown of old paper.

The garden really is a jungle at the moment. Everything seems to be enjoying it, though, from the frogs still occasionally plopping into the pond to the jackdaws dropping down onto the suet feeder. The trees need a prune, the flowering currant looks as if it’s dead, the lilac might be beyond redemption. But even so, it has good bones, and if I have to grit my teeth and get some help to pull it back into shape, so be it. Sometimes you just have to be realistic about what you can and can’t do.