Blossom, weekends, marriage.

Blossom at Porlock Weir against a thatched roof and leaden skies. We are learning to be happy in our new weekend surroundings. Enjoying gardening, reading, cooking and wandering through walled gardens in the spring rain. Of nearly empty pubs on a Sunday afternoon, of baking lemon rice pudding and eating it served in glass tea cups. Of pulling off the side of the road after a Saturday morning in the office and sitting, in the sunshine, watching lambs running and playing. We are learning to be older and married. Content in each other's company. Listening to each other's lives, our plans, our worries. Sitting in contented thyme-and-mint-candlelit silence for earth hour, whispering of the day that we might extend our family of two. Maybe even get a dog. But all in good time. Of Cornish yellow daffodils and Cornish purple anemones, jostling together in a jug in the kitchen. Of weekends. Together.