As July ends, a hotter and drier month than many a July I have known; a July with no WImbledon thanks to the pandemic and no business in the UK either; we continue to stare an uncertain future in the face - although we can’t really recognise the face, as it is partially covered by the ubiquitous mask we are now all forced to wear when we leave the safety of home.
Which is not often, in my case. I haven’t been into a shop since the lockdown started in Spain just before we left on our refugee dash home back in March, when the European dead were still being counted in tens, not hundreds of thousands. Both Magdy and Tamsin go reluctantly to shop for what we can’t manage without, and each time I feel like they did in the war, when housewives went out shopping uncertain of what they would find, and not entirely sure they would return home safe, either, with bombers and doodle bugs just around the corner, so to speak.
Our gardens have been the great solace since we came home. Tamsin has carefully tended seeds and seedlings to maturity and we now have more beans, cabbage, kale, courgettes, squash, rhubarb, strawberries, raspberries and more than we can possibly consume. I have been cooking potatoes every single day since we harvested our crop of wonderful Charlottes. The heatwaves we had during July have forced her to be creative with protection from the sun, as uncovered seedlings cook quickly in 35 degrees. Hence the garden is draped in fleece, net, sheeting, plastic, glass - you name it - all in an attempt, mostly successful, to keep the plants alive.
For me also the studio has been invaluable. I am painting at least one A4 piece most days, sometimes more: it depends on which emergency I am dealing with in the other part of my world. I’m enjoying creating the little appealing works which people like so much, and also am hoping to spend a bit of time on larger more abstract pieces soon.
So the dogs gambol in the garden, the chickens peck and the sheep nibble, and Tamsin tends while I fiddle - and hope that the world isn’t going to burn for want of our attention.
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