Nothing Lasts Forever

I know the date but I try to forget it.  It’s not marked on the calendar but somehow it’s etched in my heart; it always creeps up on me, I try to busy myself with other things, forcing diversion.  I never find comfort thinking of the last day you were here.  I find a quiet moment, close the bedroom door and sit alone to consider this twelfth year without you. 

Edge of the world at Fairhead

I’m holding all our memories; it feels strange to be the only one on this earth to remember the details of the times our lives were entwined. The sole keeper, I stand guard.  I want to reminisce about all those vivid laughing, happy dancing days, not the pit of the stomach dread, the shock, the loss, the slow and steady grief that never wanes.  I ask mum about remembering anniversaries, she says she tries to make it a day to reflect on all the beauty and joy.  I try. Every year the sound of your voice fades. 

Noticing the beauty everywhere; coffee, cup, sun

Then it’s a new day, it’s blowy, the cloud shadows move quickly across the fields and meadows, the tall grass and new crows are pushed around by this boisterous breeze; there’s rain and then sun. It’s beautiful, it’s big sky perspective change, it’s fleeting; nothing lasts forever.  I smile when I remember to pick the elderflower.

Creating deliciousness with Erin from The Edible Flower

I’ve a new spot for picking the flowers (and later the berries) which I’m shamefully keeping secret, worried others will pilfer the precious hoard.  I pick exactly 21 heads for each batch of cordial, making sure it’s a warm sunny day to maximise flavour from the dainty, lacy flowers.  Such a beautiful flavour, a right now taste;  you know how it matches so perfectly with the strawberries and the first of the stone fruit, clever, clever Mother Nature.  I worry I‘ve not made enough, how long will the bottles last?  But Elderflower cordial is not a cold weather drink, there’s no use storing it up; enjoy it now…nothing lasts forever.

For dad, a trifle inspired choux

I’m using granny’s cut glass decanter as a vase beside the bed, it’s filled with Marjoram and Lady’s Mantle for now, I wonder about ‘keeping things good.’  The precious crystal I’ve inherited becomes the ‘fancy’ glasses for the children, we decided to embrace using these beautiful things rather than them taking up space and being defunct.  Instead, we talk about who they belonged to and where they came from; a wedding present or something won at a golf competition.  And when the littlest accidentally knocks one off the table and it shatters into thousands of tiny pieces we shrug and remember that nothing lasts forever.

Watching the Eider ducklings in their safe nursery at Ballintoy

Lately I’ve been thinking about my effort out versus what I get back.  Pouring a lot out, emptying energy with little opportunity or time to refill.  I’m reassessing.  My role changes and I like the change, I embrace it.  How best can I fulfil all I want and be a support to my community without burning out?  I talk to friends who feel the same, weirdly comforting, exciting even. I wonder of the significance; when work and life are one.  Sipping the elderflower, looking at a new cookery book, checking the courgettes, checking the emails, picking salads, feeding the chickens, testing a recipe, making slug defences, paying an invoice, snuggling the children, tucking them in, writing down new ideas.  I’m still figuring things out, I don’t stand still, I may as well keep evolving because nothing lasts forever. 

Living in constant fear that the best bar in town will change!

So many ideas have come and gone, iterations on themes, revisiting recipes and proposing new methods. Changing the furniture around, repainting. Elderflowers coming and going, enjoying the simplicity of strawberries and cream, carefully watching for garden and hedgerows for the next thing, trying to be content with it because nothing lasts forever.

Picking up bread on the school run

A pretty public toilet window

Here they come

Rocket racing