Window seat anyone?
After a month-long absence, we’ve returned to find spring in full swing in Normandy. The birds are singing relentlessly and buds are popping up everywhere. One of my favourite sights is the bluebells in the woods behind the house. From a distance, they look like a deep violet-blue carpet (though it wouldn’t look so good in your living room!). Did you know that the drooping, bell-shaped blossoms of the bluebell have long been celebrated as symbols of fresh starts and personal renewal? I suspect that after our cruise, my liver could use just such a renewal. Apparently, we drank the ship dry of rosé— not out of gluttony but simply making sure we were getting our money’s worth. I do so hate waste. We have a very old cherry tree that looks lifeless most of the time but blossoms in the spring. Over the winter, it started to lean precariously and we watched nervously for any new signs of life. I had to wrestle the chainsaw out of Tim’s grip—he’s always itching to reduce things to firewood but...