The other day, I found myself having a gentle fight with a buddleia. It is actually three buddleia bushes intertwined and in spite of my best efforts to keep them under control, they are branching out as they wish. The tallest has the deepest purple blooms I’ve ever seen on a buddleia, next to it is a white one which flowers later with huge, fat blooms loved by bees and butterflies. Originally planted in front of them is a pink one, supposed to be miniature but isn’t. They are all beautiful and though it pains me to remove lower branches, I have to make sure my well-established and cherished ‘Totally Tangerine’ geum has enough space and sunshine. Seemingly from nowhere, something else appeared, which is hard to believe because I’m always checking the garden and usually know off the top of my head how many buds are waiting in the wings on the nasturtiums and how many sweet pea stalks have gripped the trellis. This ‘something else’ took me back to my first school days when the walk included a lane where the hedgerow was filled with large, white flowers. It’s something I’ve always remembered, and here it was growing in my own garden, lucky me. It was like ivy on a vine and I loved the nostalgia – until I looked it up and discovered what it really was. Bindweed. It had to go, hence the careful fight with the buddleia where it had wound itself along a few branches. Not many, thankfully, and no damage done, but I believe it is hard to get rid of completely and I’ll have to keep watch. It isn’t just the bindweed keeping me busy.
I’m also branching out on my family tree following an email from a distant relative. We’ve been in contact before but never met and don’t share a bloodline, but we are linked together by the marriage of our respective great grandparents which puts us on the same branch in our ancestry and we can help each other out with information. Stepping out of my direct bloodline has sent me on a fascinating journey – one of those that starts on Ancestry.co.uk at about nine o’clock p.m. for an hour, but carries on beyond midnight. It’s never ending.
My poem,
Branches of my family tree
Stretching out of my bloodline,
Yet belonging to what is me,
What I consider mine.
I’m gripped by who has gone before,
How they lived and why they died
And how they make me yearn for more,
Despite the many tears I’ve cried
For people I have never known.
Those who lived before my birth,
My kindred spirits having flown
Beyond the confines of this earth,
I will embrace you in Heaven.
PMW 2021
Thanks for reading, keep safe, Pam x
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