spring in the garden

I took all of these photos on Sunday morning, when the sun was shining and dew was sparkling on the grass.
An hour later it was pouring with rain, and it hasn’t stopped since. But spring is coming to the garden, and things are starting to grow. If I say I love this time of year, someone is going to hit me over the head and point out that I write that at the beginning of every season. I can’t help it.

But – little drops of water in the alchemilla mollis. Hosta shoots like rosettes. Clematis shoots appearing like magic from what looks like dead wood. The tips of tulips pushing the earth aside. It’s so lovely.

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I’ve been challenged to answer some questions by Garry at The Blog Up North. It’s either that or do some things that I’m putting off, so I’ll take the easy option. Which isn’t that easy, actually. Gulp.

I am – a mass of contradictions. An outgoing introvert would probably sum it up best. Extremely short tempered (but good at hiding it). And very good when held hostage in a restaurant. Yes, really.

The bravest thing I’ve ever done – Write a book. Because when there’s one thing that you’ve dreamed of all your life, and it’s the one thing you really want to get right, it’s easy to put it off with one excuse after another in case it doesn’t work out. Because if it doesn’t go right, well, what happens then?

Of course what I realise now is that nobody just writes a book. A bestseller doesn’t just fall out of your fingers onto the page, and an agent doesn’t just take one look at your first draft and love it (see writing tips – rejection for details). What happens is you have an idea, you write it down, it changes, you go with it, you show it to people, they cheer on the good bits and point out the bad ones, and you write it again. And again, and again.

I feel prettiest when – Hrmm. I don’t really feel pretty. I don’t think I’m grotesque, it’s just that pretty isn’t a word I’d associate with myself. I look like my dad. Only with long hair and lipstick.

Something that keeps me awake at night is – Twitter. Hahahahahaha. I am so shallow. I should be admitting to existential angst, when in fact it’s lying in the dark with my iphone giggling at people.

My favourite meal is – Ooh, now this is a tricky one. I’m a bit like Nigella Lawson, in that I spend an awful lot of time thinking about food, and quite often whilst I’m eating lunch I’ll say ‘what’s for dinner?’ in a piggish fashion. That’s because I don’t really cook. I’m married to a man who does the cooking. But in answer to the question, I’d say meze. Because that covers lots of lovely things, and I love Greek food. And Greece. (And I’m reading the most fabulous book set there – Storm’s Heart. Phwoar.)

The way to my heart is – Making me laugh. It’s a standing joke in our family that I said I’d rather sleep with Jonny Vegas than David Beckham.

I would like to be – as famous and well loved an author as Jilly Cooper. I don’t want much, do I?

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March tomorrow: time for spring gardening plans. I may even venture up to the allotment.