Some Life

Thursday 8th October 2020

The Gay Mother is having some life now although she was never completely shut down because of the gardening, the Zoom meetings with the Vicar and the telephoning. Now she’s got trips by car (self-driven) to the post office which is also a shop growing more foodie by the minute, actual masked Church and visits from relations who very nicely assume she will have nothing and bring all the things for tea with them.

Last week we motored to Cotehele, a National Trust property, which is so Tudorbethan and hidden away above the Tamar. Everybody says it’s romantic which can’t have been the original intention because originally it wouldn’t have been old. Inside it’s full of Tudorbethan needlework and bedspreads but not open of course. We had a picnic with some relations who arrived from elsewhere in Cornwall in a bit of the garden. Afterwards the Gay Mother didn’t want to walk far. But later in the week we took a walk from her house to see if the sea-asters are recovering from the terrible scything of the game-keeper.

I mentioned that there was no green vegetable nor salad at lunch or dinner. ‘There aren’t any,’ the Gay Mother said, meaning nothing worth buying in the shops and the garden supply finished. So you just don’t have it. Knowing her for 63 years, I only just worked out her method. It’s the same in the garden. There are parts of the garden still waiting, since 1956, for suitable plants that will thrive. It would be awful to waste plants. If none can be found, then the patch stays bare, waiting.

This year has been one of the best in recent memory for the garden.

The Gay Mother came back from Church. She said the Cherrypans had been there as well as the Cooke-Hirles. Lady Lavinia also.

In July, I gave the Gay Mother a colander from Angus Willis’s shop in Hastings. It arrived by Mail Order. An adorable new but retro white enamel piece with a blue rim. You know the type of ware. ┬áDog bowls and pie dishes used to come in it, as well as larger basins that were placed in the bedroom in times of crisis. The hope was that this new item would replace the flimsy tinny 50s colander from 1956 that’s still going. On my last visit the new one was out and in use with some garden courgettes laid in it – but so was the old one. ‘Very useful to have two,’ the Gay Mother said.

Church affairs are preoccupying as is Black Lives Matter. ‘Nowadays Bishops are called Libbie or Gail,’ the Gay Mother said.

Cotehele: Thought Romantic

Cotehele: Thought Romantic

The Sea-Asters recovering from the Gamekeeper

The Sea-Asters recovering from the Gamekeeper

The Gay Mother's Garden in 2020, one of the Best Years ever for Gardens

The Gay Mother’s Garden in 2020, one of the Best Years ever for Gardens

The Gay Mother's Garden in 2020

The Gay Mother’s Garden in 2020

The Gay Mother's Garden in 2020

The Gay Mother’s Garden in 2020

 

 

Posted Thursday, October 8, 2020 under Adrian Edge day by day.

2 comments

  1. Laura Malcolm says:

    The Gay Mother’s garden is a wonder and a delight. She is a role model for us all.

  2. Adrian Edge says:

    Thank you so much for your comment

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