I find that usually my life meanders along at a steady and usually slow pace. There are peaks and troughs but they are generally spaced out manageably. Or so I like to think.
This weekend, though, felt like a roller coaster with highs and lows jostling for attention.
Yesterday was Tom's 19th birthday. You may think this is a low, but I manage these occasions now with a gently sadness rather than a real physical pain. Time does that. The high came with these flowers that I took to his grave. A small select few from M & S with the addition of a little of this and that from my own garden.
I made a cake. The sweet and salty chocolate cake from Cake Days. Oh my. The most time-consuming cake I have ever made. The low was not only the actual time it took, but also that I burnt one lot of caramel and had to start over. I was so out of kilter yesterday, it felt like the end of the world.
The high was the calorific intake that just a small slice provided. I chopped some fudge to sprinkle on the top just to give it a final push in the sickliness department!
Flowers, again, came to my rescue and having been inspired by what I took for Tom, I picked a small jarful from the garden and placed them next to my knitting chair in the conservatory. I get an extraordinary amount of pleasure from such simple things. I've never thought to pick my clematis before and am wondering why as it looks so pretty amongst the other flowers.
Looking back, there were more highs than lows: I booked a summer holiday and am off to Mallorca with my sister and her family for a week in July, I mastered the art of the invisible zip (more of which soon) and there was sunshine and plenty of it.
Today, though, has delivered another mind-numbing low. My fancy new chicken run has not deterred the hungry fox and I made the gruesome discovery of an empty chicken coop again this morning. To say I am upset is an understatement. It was some time before I could stomach the cake for breakfast as prescribed by my Tweeple.
So, do I get more hens or do I let the extortionate amount of hen-keeping kit that is now languishing in my back garden go to waste? Answers on a postcard, please.