It’s been a long weekend, dominated by public transport, as I negotiated the joy that is the bus from Edinburgh to Dumfries. It used to be the number 100. A magical number. A friend once told me that she thought it wasn’t real, perhaps a bus that appeared out of the mists every hundred years. Well it is very real and very bumpy but it gets you from A to B if you have to do it – usually. This weekend it got me safely there but so far has failed to get me home, thanks to the Robert Burns celebrations taking over the bus stances in Dumfries this evening. Now Burns celebrations are a wonderful thing and I have great respect for the bard and the people who line the streets to celebrate his poetry. I am less impressed by the failure to make arrangements for public transport around this. I won’t bore you with the details but, as I write, I am enjoying the glories of a detour via Glasgow by bus and train and making merry use of the free public transport wifi as I do so. Robert Burns, of course has some poetry to remind us of these trials, as he reminds us in ‘To a mouse’ – ‘the best laid plans o’ mice an’ men gang aft agley’ .
But, to the point, what has this to do with gardening? Well I’ve had a nice couple of days with my mother, spending some happy hours pulling up weeds in her garden and looking for signs of spring, while her cat played around us.
There were violas in flower, a Japanese quince, irises in a pot, snowdrops peeping up under the trees, bulbs about to bloom all around. As well as my laptop, I have a pot of rushes in my rucksack to plant out beside my pond when I get home. It may be January, it may be dark, the public transport may be rubbish, but spring is round the corner.