Saturday, 5 July 2014

June Roses

Gosh, this time of year is just crazy. I feel like I haven't sat down in weeks. There is so much to do at work: reports to write, end-of-year results to collate and endlessly analyse, "graduation" to plan and prepare for and end-of-year trips and treats to organise. And then I get home and Beautiful Girl has got it all happening too, plus we've got holiday plans to organize and work happening in the house while we're away, so our entire downstairs has to be packed up and somehow moved to who-knows-where. Perhaps it's little wonder that my housekeeping has gone to pot and that I'm waking with the birds at 4 a.m. with endless "notes to self" running through my head.
Last week I decided to take a proper day off. To stop and to smell the roses - literally, as it happens. I adore early summer. June, for me, is all about strawberries, Wimbledon (tennis being the only sport I ever choose to watch) and roses. Oh... and Pimms too. And elderflower cordial....
Anyway, on a glorious Sunday last weekend we went to David Austen's rose garden in Shropshire.  The roses were incredible. Several times I felt like I was actually swooning; the sight, the smell was intensely happy-making.

Roses, roses everywhere. Gorgeous. And then, a cream tea on the terrace. 
I couldn't think of a better way to spend a Sunday in June. Could you?

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