So, after my last post on New Year’s Resolutions (namely the fact that I’m not making ‘I must stop doing this’ self-flagellating decrees this year), this week I have made a new resolve: to spend a little time outside each day.
I’m not being any more specific than that.
It might be a leisurely morning coffee on a bench in the garden, watching to see the first bulbs peeking through the earth, a river-side bike ride, or a bracing walk along the beach, baby in tow. It’s all too easy to throw on the cashmere tracksuit, crank up the heating and hibernate at this time of year and that, as we’re all told time and time again, does nobody’s Vitamin D levels any good.
For the last three days I’ve spent two hours each lunchtime, while Country Bebe slumbers, in the garden; raking, weeding, pruning and generally getting it back into a shipshape order for spring and the next tranche of sowing and planting.
Yes, partly it’s out of necessity (funnily enough there is no budget for a gardener at casa Mansi) but a huge bonus for the enforced green fingers is the mood-boosting kick that having winter sun on your face and soil under your nails brings you.
Yesterday, in half an hour, I overhauled the herb garden that we planted last summer.
Today was the greenhouse – out went the mouldy, dead tomato plants and a rather happy hour was spent on a therapeutic tidy up of the seeds and pots, while the tools all got cleaned, disinfected and oiled.
If you have trouble sleeping, or stress is an issue, I hugely recommend immersing yourself in such a physically tiring and mind-occupying activity. Perhaps a metaphor for my state of mind at the moment, it was great to have a clear-out and restore a sense of order.
Next up: the veg patch, the chickens arrive in April and we are waist high in brambles and nettles for the final 18ft of the garden at the moment. Watch this (overgrown) space…
