To my dearest allotment, my wonderful blog and my alter ego, Petal.
I miss you, I would like to fall in love with you again. Shall we give this another go?
As I come to the end of 2018, I look back at an eventful year. There have been adventures, a level four counselling course and one big massive Bollywood Wedding. The Punam Farmah universe has been going through huge changes.
Oh, and two books too.
So I haven’t been around as much as I could have been My brain has been full, my body stretched and my soul has been spread horribly thin. I think I have also displaced my smile and my purposeful James Bond walk. This has been painful and then some.
Quite simply, I have lost my bounce and my flow.
Two things, that I would like to get back. Two things that the plot, the blog and Petal have always given in abundace.
I should go down the plot. (I hate the word should). Given the storm currently bashing Blighty, I know it will all be a mess. There is no colour, only chaos and this pains me greatly. The once or twice that I have been there, it has felt as though I was feeling devestation. The whole thing looks ravaged and that hurts me.
How could I have let something so beautiful, so well made and cherished slip away?
Last Christmas, I planted chilli seeds. These failed, something didn’t feel right. Perhaps I knew on an intuitive level that this year wasn’t going to my year. That there wouldn’t be enough of me to use the plot.
The allotment, the blog, Petal all make me happy. I have bored so many people senseless with the tales from the alloment. Handed over jars of preserves, and then there is the Petal Plonk. I swear Gardening appears in all the books in one shape or form.
So I need to resume my love affair. Or at least flirt with the idea of having another crack at things. Admittedly, I have said this so many times this year and not acted. I guess the universe didn’t want me to.
Right now, the wind is blowing. There are big fat storm clouds. I am reminded, that big fat rain clouds will burst. Contained within their silver lining is rain, that washes things away. The droplets nourish arid earth and let greenary bloom. The rain might get caught in the sunhsine. Light splits, you get rainbows.
Every grey cloud has a silver lining.
The new year will soon be upon us. The start of another 12 months with a whole lot of potential, a whole lot of growth.
Plus, if I can get up Glastonbury Tor and then down again, I can probably do this.
So, to resume the love affair.
A time to flirt, with the seeds of an idea.
And if you wondered about the Big, Bollywood Wedding….
….it wasn’t mine.