It has now been over three years since we moved to the Island, and I don’t think about it as our New Place anymore. It is just where we live. It is the place we come home to after we have been away, where our comfortable bed cradles us after many nights elsewhere. It’s where we park our car following our ferry ride from Portsmouth and after we’ve crossed the vibrant green island, with its lush fields feeding new spring lambs. It’s also the place where we always have lovely paths to walk, and where we know where to find the fresh foods we prefer. Does that make it home? Why yes, for now, I think so.
Spending time in the garden helps me feel grounded immediately. (Pun absolutely intended!) It was the best thing for me to do right away when we returned from our recent trip spending time with my family and friends. Before my heart started aching with missing, I got my hands and mind busy planting and planning and working patches of ground. There were new plant names to learn, and pondering possibly others and where would they go and how many! In the warming sunshine I was content.
The reality of April showers has moved in since that first week back and graced us with grey skies and lots of much needed showery rain. The wet weather meant it was a good time to work on my slug trapping skills, as the slimy ones were starting to munch on all my new plants. I’m rather mortified to say I am getting very good at it!
The first night we went out with flashlights and scooped up at least a couple dozen into a bucket and relocated them to the front gutter out on the street. The next day I set beer traps throughout the garden: plastic cups half-filled with cheap beer. I was delighted horrified to go out the following morning to find the cups filled with anywhere from three to a dozen slugs in each and every one. Gah!
I’ve been checking the traps and restocking the cups with beer as needed for the last week and I have to say it has been a very successful venture. The nibbling of the plants has been reduced, and strangely, the size and sometimes the numbers of the slugs is increasing. I have no idea what that means. Every morning now I have a different kind of slimy harvest, but it is a productive ‘crop’ indeed. Oh, for some hungry ducks to visit and take care of this job (they love slugs and snails)!
In other wildlife-in-the-garden news, yesterday I watched a pair of magpies hop around the garden back and across, over and all around, sticking their black beaks into the wood chippings and soil to see what they could find. A little twig here, a nibble of something there; they were each busy in their own turf until one of them pulled up an enormously long worm. The successful hunter proudly waved it around, and the other magpie jump-hopped quickly over, just as the first one proudly, smugly—it seemed to me—slurped it all down. Whoa. It’s a wild garden out there.
Next week I am off to Spain for a week to focus on writing alongside two lovely writerly pals. You may think it is because I need some more sun, and you would not be wrong. However, it is not my primary reason, honestly! Our host/organiser is one of my longest-time friends who is a wonderful writer with not just one but TWO substack essays: Snippets from Spain and Building Modern Chicago. Our other writer friend is also a substack writer—you can find her here: Who Am I in Spanish. We found each other through the London Writer Salon; she is a long-time editor, author and cat lover.
We will focus on writing alone & together each day with possibly a few interruptions now and again to clear our minds and be inspired by the history, architecture, geography, and cultural diversions in Spain. I may—or may not—update you from Granada.
I am keeping my fingers crossed that spending a week focusing on writing in another place with no daily routines (no slugs for a week!) will reenergise me again. My brain has been miles and miles away from book writing for a couple of months. Visits to National Parks, and various other family-related goings have taken up primary residence and front seat chatter, relegating thinking about the book to the far back-seat, like in the old station wagons/estates of yore.
I am excited to get back to writing and recommitting to the daily practice that feeds my soul. Alongside of course enjoying precious time spent with two amazingly smart, interesting and humorous women friends. Inspiration indeed!
Wishing you all the April showers you need before moving into full-on Spring or Autumn, depending on where you put your head at night!
Until next week,
xoxo Sabrina
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Your coming at the right time because it's finally sunny and warm. I was worried that Spanish weather would disappoint.
We will be writing. I don't understand how people could think we'd be doing anything else when historic and cultural sights abound, outdoor bars and restaurants fill up by 7:30, wine bottles are uncorked, specialty coffee shops are open all day, and flowers and new leaves fill the parks. What else is there to do but write?
Thank you very much for mentioning my Substack pages. Very kind of you. I plan to post from Granada so maybe we can work something out there.
Buen viaje!!
Ah, so that's what a slug-fest is! You sound like a champion!
Have fun with your writers' gathering. On Fridays, I go to a portrait painting class for the same creative re-energizing. It's wonderful to be around my people. They understand my frustrations and successes. I can bounce ideas off them, and they are thoughtful brainstormers!