Thought of the month - March

 When a flower doesn’t bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower.

Lockdown musings

I recently finished reading Vanity Fair and, like many good books, it's given me a slightly altered outlook on the world.  No, we're not in the Regency period anymore, but it's amazing what you notice about how modern people position themselves to appear a certain way, to appeal to a "type" of audience, or to elevate themselves above others (in their own minds.)  Ok, so Thackerey was dealing with those of social standing in the early-1800s, but the principle is the same I think - instead of "social standing", read "popularity", or perhaps "celebrity."  You see it all the time on TV, and you see it out in the real world too - individuals who have got a little bit ahead of themselves, and who have let their self-image go a teeny bit to their heads.  Do we see the real personalities when we watch these people?  Or are they just acting their whole lives away for the benefit of image?  Well if it's the latter then let them perform to their hearts' content, I will have nothing of it.  Falseness and superficiality are endemic in our society, but reader remember - Vanity Fair is a circus and always will be.  And to what end?  As Lord Steyne tells Becky Crawley: "Everybody is striving for what is not worth the having!"

No, far better to pay it zero heed and actually focus on the important things in this world.  And for me, such things begin on Wednesdays.  Now I'll let you into a secret.  Every Wednesday afternoon since Christmas, I've settled down on the sofa, cuddled with Schnitzel, and watched a film from the golden age of Hollywood.  We call this new tradition "Wednesday Afternoon Film Club," and it's become one of my favourite moments of the week.  We've watched Fred Astaire tap dance his way around London, Venice and New York; been out on the plains of Oklahoma to see Curly woo Laurey; bummed around Paris and Los Angeles with Gene Kelly; and taken a sultry stroll down naughty, bawdy, gaudy, sporty 42nd Street.  It's become something of an escape during these shaky times, to delve back into a more certain and optimistic age, and I've become quite certain that only a small handful of stars in our time could are fit to even shine the shoes of Hollywood's past greats.

Usually during Wednesday Afternoon Film Club I'll treat myself to something enjoyable - a nice frosty glass of Fentiman's cola or (given the season) some M&S speckled eggs.  Alas we're now in the period of Lent, so such pleasures are under lock-and-key.  I find the will power element of Lent quite positive - it's a test, as it should be, which in its own small way grounds me a little bit, and puts me one step back towards a more sensible and mindful way of living. In addition to the usual pile of calories that I'm not eating over Lent, I've also chosen to not eat between meals this year.  What I've learned from this experience is how much more enjoyable food has become when I can eat it - I actually savour food now, and look forward to my meal times.  I feel like it's put me more in touch with a more old-fashioned way of living, where food is something to be thankful for, and dinnertime a cause for celebration, rather than just another moment taken for granted.

Observing Lent is part of the package of looking forward to spring.  Now it's March, the sun is more radiant, and I've been doing lots of tidying and planning in the garden.  Lent's a useful time frame for this, because I use it as my basis for getting certain jobs done outside, in the hope that come Easter weekend I'll have a beautiful, burgeoning plot to carry all the way through to the autumn.  I've scrubbed the deck, cleared out the dank and dingy "back" of the summerhouse, and bagged up endless numbers of fallen leaves.  I've also set about a new spring border, packed full of snake's head fritillaries (a personal favourite!), narcissi and a variety of primulas, and will add crocus bulbs in the autumn.  With a bit of luck and love, they'll all come back nicely for years to come, eventually forming a naturalised swathe of early colour, great for bees and great for me.  It's all about promise, anticipation and patience, and it will see winter, Lent and lockdown all give way to springtime.