I lost my dear old boy Max on September 22nd, 10 months after dad passed. Max was a German Shepherd and I suppose you always expect their legs or hips to go eventually.A few months before he died, one of Maxs rear legs went, but thankfully after a week or so, everything seemed to be back to normal and he could walk properly again. Then the week before he died he got up to answer a knock at the door,(as he always did) and slipped and didnt want to get up again. The next day I finally got him to go out into the garden (he has always been such a good boy, never messed in the house, even as a puppy) and he wouldnt come back in again, just wanted to go into the summerhouse. We spent the next 4 days and nights in there, he managed to get up once and literally dragged himself up to the top of the garden where he always did his jobs on the gravel-with me trying to make him just go on the grass for once, bless him. Getting him back down to the grass was a lengthier matter and we finally got him back to the summerhouse, and he never got up again. I was hoping against hope that it would be like before and he would get up again, but this time both back legs had gone. On the morning of 22nd September he began to cry and then howl. I rang a vet and realised that I would have to have him put down. But he passed away more peacefully than I could have expected before the vets arrived.(They were 5 minutes away and I am glad he died when he wanted to) He is buried in a favourite spot on the lawn along with his favourite toys and some custard creams, the only thing he would eat in his last couple of days.
Farewell my dear old boy, I miss you x

Well I wrote a post five years ago, I wonder what it would be like to live in world where it was always June. To be in the garden in an eternal June with my mum. Now add dad to that, larger summerhouse than before, the same roses, some new plants, and of course a new face, my grandson Dallas age 3 who is the love of my life.  Happiness definitely is eternal June if mum and dad could be there also :)
 new summerhouse with lots of my old furniture tarted up with a bit of paint.Mum and dads fireplace with mums Hercules and vases on top

 Max almost 11 years old now
 old garden furniture covered with some calico slipcovers i ran up
 My son Damons old tub chair, covered in some duck egg faux suede and my daughter Kates old sofa bed covered in same, with mum and dads old bureau painted, you guessed my favourite colour, duck egg
 an old cupboard i bought many years ago, painted and wallpapered with memories of my children, parents and grandparents on
 Princess Victoria Louise Oriental poppy
 one of my own orientals
 Madame Gregoire Stachelin climbing rose, hanging her beautiful head
 my old wicker bench bought for £25 about 30 years ago from B & Q, with one of my favourite materials Fairford by Jane Churchill -lovely Fair Rosamund, Rosa mundi roses on a duck egg background






 Constance Spry peeking through a golden hop
 Fremontedendrom shrub and Rose Despres au Fleur Jaune
 Constance spry again
 Emily Gray
 Despres au Fleur Jaune again
 Fantan Latour
 a view from my potager looking down towards house and summerhouse

 my favourite bench

I always intended this blog to be more of a garden diary, to show how my green fingers I seem to have inherited from my mother and grandfather are getting greener. But sadly the last few years my dearest dad developed dementia and I had no time for anything but him. I hasten to add I would have had it no other way. I seem to have spent all my growing up years looking after family and not spending much time on myself. Now I have the time, sadly I find myself not wanting to do anything. Dad passed away on 22nd November, we buried him 16th December, and the rest of that month was spent clearing out the two lifetimes of my parents. As anyone who has cared for a relative 24/7 will know, their death leaves a gaping hole, and part of me feels guilty for wanting to do anything that I haven't been able to enjoy for years. A couple of days after dad passed away I had to sign on at the Job Centre at the age of 60 (thanks government for raising my pensionable age to 67 and a half!) I have applied for jobs but no-one seems to want me-not sure if I am happy or sad at that!
My dear dad, William Henry Golding, as he would introduce himself to one and all, had a very happy and healthy life until a couple of months before his death, and so my New Year resolution is to try and live the rest of what I have left being as happy as my dad and spend it doing what I like best, gardening and being with my family. And to try my hardest to become a little selfish (it will be difficult) and indulge myself for a change.


Reunited with mum now :)