Lost time, Spring time, Mother’s Time

On Mother’s Day, we don’t go to church.  Instead, I have decreed that my children spend the whole day worshipping me, their mother.

Sissinghurst is somewhere I have had in my sights for a long time.  I remember my friend Kathryn coming back from there, beaming and full of praise for the delightful gardens, designed by Vita Sackville-West.  I too wanted to glow with pleasure after a perfect day out.

But it is quite a long drive so we have never been.

However, as Mummyzilla, I put my foot down.

Perran and Carenza obeyed the three-line whip and arrived the night before so that we could make an early start.

We had reckoned without the clocks jumping forward.

And without that wrong turn we took when the conversation in the car got interesting.

I was beginning to fear that when/if we finally got to Sissinghurst, there would not be enough left of the day for me to achieve my full glow.

However, when we arrived, the misty lawns were swathed in daffodils, snakeshead fritillaries, scylla, grape hyacinth and primrose in all their pastel varieties.  Each border put forth its own cornucopia of spring blossoms and birds sang in the trees. Water features bubbled quietly.

The effort had been worthwhile.  We may have lost time, but somehow, in the end we had arrived at the very heart of spring time.