It’s surprising just what life throws at us, and how it changes our thoughts and opinions on so many levels. After a weekend that was pretty miserable (with the exception of Sunday night when I had the wonderful opportunity to talk to the loveliest lady-on-the-web, Mimi) I’ve gotten over the inital stress and the dust has settled. A weight has been lifted and I feel like I can think again.

I’m even up to posting about a couple of the loveliest vintage finds! These were both bought in the same shop in Horncastle in Lincolnshire. This particular shop, called Bijou is the loveliest of shops. Part treasure-trove, part lavender-scented ladies’ glove drawer, it houses the most wonderful old finds. Victorian camisoles made of silk sit next to flapper dresses and much-loved and faded hats share space with kid-leather gloves and embroidered table-cloths. I love the smell of walking in there, not a new smell, it smells of my grandmother, and of wonderful old times.

One of the first things I bought in that shop, when I was a-courtin’ Mr. VP - all those years ago - was a French jewellery box. It’s lined with the prettiest blue silk, brass details and a little lock which has no key. I fell so in love with it I bought it with the first money I ever earnt. I think it was that shop that first made me appreciate the delicate quality of an old tablecloth, well-made enough to withstand a hundred years use.

As for the title of this post, I really do have some hazelnut buttons and a faded floral hankie (see above photos)! Mr. VP found the buttons and handed them to me whilst browsing this wonderful shop, saying how unusual they were. Of course I had to have them, and a bargain the three of them were, too - just 50p. Now I don’t know about you but I’m a consummate hankie user, but you can’t get soft, lovely hankies anymore. New ones are poly-cotton and don’t feel nice when you need to blow your nose or wipe a tear away. If you can find a decent soft one, you’re onto a winner, however tatty it may be. Thankfully that shop doesn’t do tatty, at least not with their hankies, and I came away with the prettiest floral hankie, which is as soft as silk. I’m not going to say a hankie can solve world problems, but it is awfully nice to have in your handbag.

I hadn’t actually realised just how stressed I was about this upcoming appointment. I can laugh about it now, as if it happened ages ago, rather than a mere 12 hours. Though the kidney pain has settled down I’m not sure it’s gone entirely so I’m still drinking water like a fish and hoping for the best. The doctor we saw was a different one, our 3rd in 3 visits. She was nice, if a little terse, her bedside manner was lacking any friendliness. She said what she needed to say and that was it. What she did say was that there was no point in starting fertility treatment before checking my “tubal patency“, another round of invasive tests, this time really invasive, by doing a hysterosalpingogram (HSG). I was given the option of full-out surgery and a laparoscopy, which I turned down in favour of the less-invasive, non-surgical HSG. I’ve read lots of articles and comments from people who have had HSGs, some saying they didn’t feel a thing to others saying it was a definite 10 on their pain scale. There are no painkillers given with the HSG, so I was advised to take ibuprofen (again, not good for me) half an hour before the procedure, whenever that would be.

I was a bit shocked and quite upset by the whole thing - I expected something totally different, not to be told that I’d have to have a HSG. Mr. VP and I got out into the corridor and I said to him, tearily, that I didn’t think I could manage it. The doctor said it was painful, and that there wasn’t much point in me having it in the first place, as my chances of tubal problems were small anyway. I felt like with everything going on it was too much to be dealing with. Mr. VP hugged me and we both decided to go back and talk to the nurse-practitioner who had been with us during the consultation. She was lovely. She went into great depth about what it would entail and why the doctor had suggested it in the first place, and allayed my fears about pain. She said it would hurt but that it’d probably only last for a few hours, not for days, and it shouldn’t affect me seriously. I was incredibly grateful for her time and her kindness.

I don’t have a date for the HSG yet - the doctor marked it down as “urgent” and apparently I should get an appointment well within a month, hopefully before our holiday.

Having had the best part of the day to mull it over, I know it’s probably for the best - and it’s a short-lived procedure, much less devastating than surgery. I’m looking forwards, and trying to be positive. That’s not to say I’m not scared, but I’m trying to find the silver linings that I know are there somewhere.

Breathe.

I’ve got a quote in my head that sums it all up quite nicely. It was a quote of unknown origin, as far as I’m aware, but it was used on the first page of Daphne Fielding’s memoirs “The Nearest Way Home“.

“The longest way round is the nearest way home.”

It makes me smile to recall it, and all that it subtly means. Thanks Daphne.

I am quite a superstitious person.  I say “Good morning/ afternoon/ evening Mr. Magpie” when I see a lone magpie anywhere,   I avoid walking under ladders.  I have little superstitious quirks, which I partake in to keep fate looking pleasantly at me.  Then there are times I wonder why I bother.  Take yesterday for instance.  A slightly sore side and a pain that went, as my med-student doctor put it, “from loin to groin”, got slowly worse over the day.  I noticed my pee had gone really dark, and then full of blood.  I was already panicked, but that panicked me more.  By bedtime yesterday I was ready to sue the makers of the MMR jab - because I was sure it was a side-effect of it.  Seeing as I’d had lumps, rashes, temperatures, swollen joints - I was truly feeling a bit stupid.

Today I went to the doctor, and saw this doctor who can’t have been that much older than myself - who had to look in her medical books quite a bit when I presented.  She tested my “sample” and found that it was mostly blood, with a tiny bit of infection, but that the infection wasn’t causing the “loin to groin” pain.  It was no less than a kidney stone.  At that point I could see everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve - weightloss (down a stone), exercise, healthy eating, a new lifestyle - was crumbling down.  I cried.  I sat in the doctor’s car-park for half an hour and cried, because it’ll almost certainly mean postponing the fertility treatment, the one thing I’ve been working so tirelessly for.

The doctor gave me painkillers I can’t take because they upset my stomach (I did tell her this) - and whilst the pain is managable, I’ll stick to paracetamol and lots of water.  I have been x-rayed (nothing like a good bit of radiation in the morning…) and I’ve cried some more.  More than anything I’m annoyed at my body not wanting to perform the most basic of functions normally.  I could throttle my kidney for doing this to me the day before I was due to have one of the most important hospital appointments in my life.  I’m the kind of person to believe in silver linings, but seriously, please could it just go right for once?

So you can imagine the next couple of days are going to be fraught - I’ve been told by numerous people, including my mother, to take it easy and just rest.  My body needs time to recouperate.  But with my mind doing 100 things a minute it seems hard to settle for any length of time.

I know it’ll be fine in the end, but at the moment, the “end” seems an awfully long way away.

I would be powering through these Crusader blocks at a decent speed if I didn’t keep making silly mistakes (sewing the darn things together the wrong way round, twice) - with only a few wounds (should really invest in a thimble!) to show for it. I went out this morning to our local patchwork quilt shop because the stash needed some other complimentary colours.

There I found some gorgeous fabrics and I’m working on a blue block - I like the way it’s turning out. Eventually the blocks will be joined by a border of white cotton to frame them. I nabbed a bit of the most beautiful screen-printed fabric with bunnies on it - not usually prone to bouts of gooeyness towards members of the Leporidae family, I’m blaming it on my mumps symptoms - which will have a special place on the quilt. I’d like to back it with something really soft, either brushed or lawn cotton.

This block is the lilac, green and gold block because those colours go so well together. I kinda like it. You’re going to *love* the Rowan fabric I bought today - nothing but pansies…

In other news I’m rather proud of the fact that I swum a whole mile last night, a whopping 64 lengths, in about an hour. Unfortunately afterwards the Rubella rash made itself known and I spent the night itching and prickling - and I’m told I do look strange when I use a door-frame to scratch my back!

“Sweet oh luscious life
Celebrate your dreams when you are away
Doesn’t it taste so sweet
Like it’s growing on oh growing on the trees
Growing on the trees”

-Patrick Watson - “Luscious Life“.

[Our Snowy Mespilus or Amelanchier Lamarckii, with blossom]

If you were to step into our garden right now, you’d find the most wonderful sense of things happening. I walk through the garden every day, on my way to and from the chicken’s coop, giving them corn and grated carrot, filling their water, digging up lots of dandelions for them to eat and talking about the world with them. It’s this time of year, in every gardener’s year, that is the busiest. We’re out there most days (when the rain allows) planting and tending, trimming and sowing. Eventually you see your work pay off when the first shoots of peas appear or your broad beans finally showing their heads above ground. It’s very satisfying. I don’t think there is anything better for your mind or your mental health than watching your hard work come to fruition.

[Tulips which are supposed to be peach, being resolutely yellow with tinges of red.  I don't mind.]

Today it’s sunny and mild, and in the sun you can feel its strength - much stronger than the weak, lemony light we’ve had for so long. When I hang the washing out I often just sit there and watch the world go by. I could stare at clouds forever - and watch the seagulls wheeling very high overhead.

[My Spring love - species tulips.  This one is Tulipa tarda Dasystemon, originally from the middle-east.  We also grow T. pulchella 'Purple Pearle'.]

The potatoes, broad beans, peas, courgettes, tomatoes, parsnips, garlic, cabbages and squashes are all planted and in various stages of growth/ germination. I’m slowly managing to cross names off the list of things to do in the garden. It is very satisfying.

[Comfrey (creeping) Symphytum grandiflorum.  I've always wanted a comfrey and this is a small, prostrate form of the herb.  My favourite is the Russian variety Symphytum x uplandicum, but I'm becoming very fond of this one too.  Its leaves will go into making plant food.]

The chickens are getting a tad bored of moulting their feathers and I do certainly feel for them. Gooseberry and Marigold are taking the insult with good grace and are moulting from the bottom up, whereas Nutmeg, who swears she is human and shouldn’t have to live in a coop and run outside, is doing the exact opposite - she’s now earned herself the title of naked-neck, on account of her nakedness in that region. Poor bird!

[Marigold - no sign of feather loss, it's all modestly hidden!]

[Gooseberry - shy and modest!]

[Nutmeg - annoyed and dodging the camera!]

G seems to be making the most of the sunshine too, in the only way our gal knows how - which is lots of rolling about on the lawn and playing ball. Oh and chasing bumble-bees. She obviously doesn’t recall last Summer’s sting on the paw, which mummy had to remove! Mimi said she wanted some more photos of G - so here they are!

[Rolling around for the camera]

[Play!]

[Intently watching]

[More play!]

[Snooze]

[Sleepyhead]

I may be biased, but that dog is the most photogenic creature on earth and we love her to pieces.

I’ve got more posts coming over the next few days - if only to keep me from worretting about the appointment on Friday.  But for now I’m going to make the most of the sun and have a cup of tea outside on the lawn.  Bliss.