Freedom

Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité, the three pillars of the French Republic. All fine qualities, but for me a rabid Sagittarius the finest is the first one, liberté. And last night, one year after he came to me, I experienced a freedom I never expected to have again. Hugo stayed by himself at home while I went to Snape to usher. It was a long time for him to be alone, from 6 to 10.30, but I had fed him an extra large supper and taken him for a long walk at Pound Farm. He took one look at the red ribbon I wore around my neck and my black suit and I swear he shuddered. He knew with dread what they meant. "You stay here while mummy goes out and I'll be back soon," I told him, and without waiting to be told twice he curled into a ball on his sofa and shut one eye. I left the house with a light heart, sensing that after all the practice runs he would be fine on the night. And he was. He launched himself at me when I returned, but there was no sense of anxiety or fear, just delight at the reunion. I lavished praise on him and he soaked it up. Then we went to the treats cupboard and I may have slightly overdone it. But the relief is huge, and the possibilities for the future endless. No more does he have to suffer hours in the car when he could be comfortable at home. I'm so proud of him, of both of us. Eeee, but we've come a long way. It just took time. We got there.

Nick came and dug up a load of nettles from around the back fence. He thinks the area needs strimming regularly until the nettles disappear and grass returns to the space. So that'll be a job for Did who I haven't seen yet this year. Otherwise I'm trying to focus on what has been done rather than what needs to be done. The anenomies I planted last year are looking lovely, and so are the pulsatilla. More have been set in the ground for this year, and they appear each spring like magic having completely disappeared for the winter. Someone asked me if I had seen the marsh harriers that fly over Brundish, and I was about to say no when I saw two pairs over the woodland walk on Wednesday, and on the way back from the hairdressers in Stradbroke several pairs gliding on the thermals. Unbelievable! I thought they only stayed by the coast. They are very striking with their huge wings stretched out.

Pulsatilla and rusty trowel

The contrast, before and after

Gleaming

Waiting to go to our doors for the start of Tosca, another usher told me how much she liked opera, and asked me if I liked it too. I love it, I told her enthusiastically. It's everything to me, encompassing as it does the whole spectrum of human emotion and passion. Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore, I joked. But her look told me she didn't know Tosca that well and maybe I was someone to avoid in the future. Woops.