8 July

Measuring Growth

Late again, thanks for being patient. The weekend took me away (as it were) and I found myself staying only an hour or so from the friary. Yes it was good to be away, if only for a short while. The humble abode (a haven of rest) was a small timber based structure close to river and woodland and I was able to take in some of the scenery. Around 8.30pm I was treated to the sight of four curlews screeching and soaring; Wow! what a feeling , curlews have to be a special favorite of mine and to see four was just amazing.

On to something more basic, the bathroom in this small habitat brought back memories from over 50-years; the smell was just like that of my Aunt Agnes's bathroom, I sometimes stayed with her when I was a child. Perhaps it was the wooden structure, you see Agnes and Bill lived in (what used to be) a WWII hut converted into a very nice bungalow. Tongue and groove wood paneling throughout the house, in fact I remember with my index fingers I could touch both walls of the long passage that ran from the kitchen to the lounge. It made a great sound as I ran from one end to the other (we darn't do it when Aunt Agnes was about). How strange how our senses can transport us back so quickly.

Back at the friary a little mopping up was in order as the continuous rain found its way through our old roof, Jim the local handy man is on his way, or so his wife keeps telling us. He does a good job and will be worth the wait and the forecast is a little better.

It will be five years since we planted the silver birch as a small sapling; I have watched its growth from the kitchen window. From my line of sight it was easy to plot its progress against fences and a building just across from us. It has now (by my line of sight) reached the roof top. There is nothing now to compare the hight of the tree or monitor its growth, what am I going to do? How important was it for me to monitor its growth so far? It didn't help the tree one bit, it managed quite well without me and I am sure it will go on long after I am gone. Children grow up fast, from crawling to toddling - walking to running and before long you are talking face to face. I remember a silver birch in our garden many years ago, this one was good for climbing and I managed to get a rope over one of its branches to make a swing. I got to know the silver birch, the leaves were a delicate shade of green and the bark seemed to be wrapped around the trunk and splitting, curling off, silver. From curlews to silver birches and aunt Agnes's wooden bungalow, just some of my favourite memories.
Note to memo pad: - Not to measure growth, but to appreciate it.